


Kalmia

by locusdesperatus



Series: Kalmia [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal Sex, Animal Death, Blackmail, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Character Death, Drama & Romance, Embedded Images, First Dates, Hallucinations, Illustrations, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Illness, Memory Loss, Mutation, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22681660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locusdesperatus/pseuds/locusdesperatus
Summary: Leon makes a move on a close friend in the DSO. However, there's more to his date than meets the eye, and on top of it all, he's starting to think he's caught more than just a cold.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Kalmia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746616
Comments: 11
Kudos: 61





	1. Sehnsucht

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sehnsucht- internal, painful longing for someone or something
> 
> The art for this chapter was done by @cutebaratitties on Twitter!

_Take twice daily as needed for pain._

"Whole lot of good you're doing." Leon tossed the pill bottle back into the drawer of his desk, pushing it shut with his knee. He rubbed his back gingerly, feeling a huge knot shift beneath his fingers.

"Still hurts?"

He looked up, a smile tugging at his face when he saw Toby standing in the doorframe.

"You already brought me my treats this morning," Leon held up the half empty cup of coffee he'd been nursing. "Back for more?"

"I just like spoiling you." Toby teased. He came over, setting a folder on the desk. "Hunnigan asked me to drop this off, it's a form for the sat phone you lost on the Eastern Slav mission."

"Okay, I didn't _lose_ it," Leon protested, looking at the fresh batch of paperwork. "It was destroyed by enemy operatives."

"Well, paperwork is paperwork, and she said you have to do it because she wasn't the one in the field." Toby shrugged his shoulders. "She's the bossman, not me."

"No wonder the painkillers aren't working." Leon grumbled. "Thanks, Tobes. See you at lunch?"

"I'll be around. Don't forget about dinner, either." He winked, closing the office door behind him. Leon stared after him for a moment, sighing. At this rate, he wouldn't be able to dig his way out of the files in time to make their date. _Date._ His pen clicked in his hand as he thought about it more and more.

 _"Fraternizing again?"_ Hunnigan had teased him when she'd caught him standing a little too close to his fellow agent. They'd been sharing lunch, on a rare day when Toby wasn't being whisked off to train new recruits. He was a field medic, and that was invaluable in their line of work. Even the BSAA had been jostling Simmons to borrow _Agent Cardoso._ Leon couldn't blame them, not really, but he absolutely could whine and complain whenever he was deprived of his morning pastry and coffee delivery just because someone needed a first aid course. Toby even knew about his soft spot for maple bars. At first, the donuts had been left on his desk without so much as a note, and he'd been understandably suspicious. Getting Hunnigan to show him the security footage outside his office had taken a healthy amount of badgering, but it had been worth it.

He'd confronted Toby, making a grand show of sitting on his desk while eating the offered donut. The defendant had sworn that the pastries were only a kindness, but the look in his eye when Leon licked frosting off his fingers said otherwise.

_"I don't believe you."_

_"What?"_

_"I think you have a crush on me."_

_"Agent Kennedy, I-"_

_"And I think I want to go on a date with you."_

Thank god he'd been right about Toby's feelings. Since then, their meetings had become more flirtatious. He'd started running his hands through his hair more often, leaving the top button of his shirt undone, subtle things. It was all preamble, leading up to tonight's dinner at a fancy restaurant downtown. What was the name…

Leon shrugged to himself, looking down at the file he was working on. He had the address, the name wasn't important. His stomach rumbled, and he frowned. It had barely been an hour since he'd finished his donut, why was he already hungry again? Maybe this morning's workout had been more intense than he thought. He pushed the thoughts aside, shaking his head in annoyance. There was so much paperwork to do, and he had to get crackin' if he wanted to make his date on time.

By the time lunch rolled around, he'd managed to take a chunk out of his inbox. His wrist ached, and he swore he'd see file numbers in his dreams tonight, but it was progress. After using the bathroom, he glanced in the mirror, fussing with his bangs. They never wanted to sit right, always getting caught on the wrong side of his nose. Satisfied with his preening, he went upstairs to find Toby.

"Hey, Tobes." He called, leaning over the edge of his cubicle. Toby jumped, apparently engrossed in whatever was on his screen. He kicked his arms back nonchalantly, folding them behind his head.

"Yes?"

"Lunch time, c'mon." Leon hid a smile behind the back of his hand. "Or are you too jumpy to face the cafeteria?"

"The cafeteria doesn't sneak up on me while looking like an _absolute snack._ " Toby teased, standing up and stretching.

"Stop it, I already said yes to the date." Leon told him, pushing him playfully. He stopped at the top of the stairwell, glancing back.

"After you." Toby inclined his head.

"Is this a ploy to stare at my ass?"

"I would never do such a thing." Toby crossed his pinky over his heart. "And the fact that you even insinuated that I would breaks my fragile little-"

"Alright, alright." Leon grabbed his arm, tugging him down the stairs. "Hurry up, I'm starving."

The walk to the cafeteria was broken up by Toby's chatter, comments about the state of the DSO's decor that had Leon hiding giggles behind his hand.

"If it bothers you so much, why did you transfer from your cushy job at the naval yard? Worried you were getting soft?" He poked Toby's stomach, earning a swat on the wrist.

"Hey! No, I got bored of dealing with internal affairs cases from officers who couldn't handle their… well, their affairs."

"So you came to the DSO, and now you deal with…?"

"Whiny DSO agents who also can't handle their affairs. Or a bit of hydrogen peroxide."

Leon laughed, crossing his arms as they got in line behind some other agents. He stared at the menu, eyes narrowing. He felt like he could eat a horse, and vocalising that thought earned him a chuckle from Toby.

"Are my donuts not enough for you?"

"Is that an innuendo?" He asked.

"Oh, honey. Save that for later." Toby nodded up at the bulletin board. "First, get some food so you don't waste away on me."

They met up again at a table, huddling together to gossip. Leon couldn't shake the feeling that he was stuck in some sort of teen drama romance, but he was in too deep to give it much thought. He was catching enough grief from Hunnigan about how easily he'd wormed his way into Toby's heart. She always teased him about the amount of attention he got. "Pretty boy" this and "DSO's heart throb" that. She was worried about him, he knew that. He spent a lot of time alone, by choice. Having friends, lovers, anything, was a risk. And maybe he was foolish for giving in and chasing after Toby. Maybe he'd die on his next mission and never see him again, but that was something he was ready to face. He was so familiar with the risk, but he'd never given thought to the guarantees. The guarantees of having someone to confide in, someone who would smile brighter than the sun when he came through the door. Someone who would leave him donuts and coffee on his desk every morning, knowing he always forgot to get breakfast.

It was a heavy train of thought to have while indulging himself in tomato soup and grilled cheese.

"Hey, I gotta get back to work." Toby nudged him with his elbow. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Six sharp." Leon smiled at him. He batted away a hand that tried to ruffle his hair. "Hands off, I work hard to keep it looking this good." He complained.

"Oh, I know." Toby flashed him a grin before heading off. He was headed back towards the stairs, no doubt swimming in as much paperwork as Leon was. With a quiet grumble, he finished the last of his soup. His stomach still felt empty, and he made a note to keep a closer eye on his calorie intake. Something was off, he just wasn't sure what. It took effort to get back to his office. He wasn't sure if the richness of the soup was making his stomach rebel, or if he'd caught the bug that had been going around the office. Either way, he pulled his trashcan close to his desk, not interested in cleaning his own puke out of the carpet.

What had he been working on? Some sort of equipment requisition, or… He searched through his inbox, frustrated.

Sat phone. Right. The file stared back at him. He tried not to inhale the smell of the copy paper, beginning to fill out the tiny little boxes. Was this equipment critical to involved personnel? Well, sort of. He checked yes. He'd been fine without it, but he definitely would've appreciated warning before 50 caliber rounds dropped out of the sky. Does the loss or enemy apprehension of this equipment pose a significant threat to the security of the DSO or United States Military? No. There was nothing left to be apprehended. All of the important bits had been crushed under JD's foot. Leon let out a sigh at the thought of JD. He'd been so sure that he'd be able to save him.

Of course, it was always a gamble. There were lots of dead colleagues that he'd thought he could save. However, not many of them had exploded into a mass on tentacles in front of both him and God. The irony of JD slumping over in front of the church altar struck a guilty chord inside him, but he pushed it down. There was no turning back time. A mantra his therapist had drilled into him. He could no sooner save JD than fly himself to the moon. Martyring himself for either cause would do him no good.

It wouldn't stop him from pouring another shot, downing vodka on the rocks until he could comfortably swim in his own guilt like some sort of PTSD-riddled jellyfish, but hey, at least the therapist was making a profit.

It felt like eons had passed before he could go home, his stomach still rumbling unhappily. It was irritating, and Leon chewed on his lower lip as he walked to his car. Something was off, maybe he was getting sick, or maybe he'd developed a new allergy. That was a thing, right? Anything was possible when fighting improbable monsters and pseudo mad scientists. He should probably get checked out...

...Later. After he got some food. And maybe a nap. _Is this what being pregnant feels like?_ He shook his head, refocusing on driving. He's obviously not pregnant. A tiny voice in the back of his head spun a wild tale about the virus implanting some sort of living organism inside him, but he shut it down quickly. Nope. Not again. No more living things playing patty cake with his organs.

He'd had enough of that in Spain. More than enough. Pain like slow ticks of the clock, a constant reminder of how little time he'd had to find Ashley and use Luis' device. How close he'd come to having his mind overtaken, his body used as Saddler's plaything. There had been hunger then, too, though he hadn't admitted it. A constant gnawing bubbling up and into his throat like bile. While his current craving was for food, then it had been something else, something darker. Even now, he was loathe to admit what his body had asked for, what the dark voice that had fed him intrusive thoughts had spoken of. Submission, namely. To give into his Lord and surrender his body. But beneath that, under Saddler's whispering and conniving, a craving for meat, for flesh. That had scared him more than the way he had coughed up blood, more than the veins that had broiled and broken beneath his skin.

With a shudder, he scratched at his arm, a habit he'd been left with after the incident. He'd see them in his dreams, the veins. Blueish purple lines that swallowed up his skin and stole his breath. They choked him, made him wake with a scream bubbling in his throat, scratching and picking at his skin until his heart rate settled. Seeing those same veins on others always left him shivering in his boots, a reaction he could never seem to unlearn.

When he finally arrived at his apartment, the couch was a welcome respite. His whole body felt heavy, crashing into the cushions. The brown leather squeaked beneath him, giving way to his weight.

"Just need a nap." He mumbled to himself. It would be easier to think, easier to puzzle out his newfound sickness, after he got some rest. His eyelids were like steel shutters, heavy and with a mind of their own. The last conscious thought to pass through his skull was the nagging, terrible feeling that he had forgotten something.

Leon's dreams didn't have sound, only pictures. Ashley, Luis, Buddy, Claire, Angela, other faces, people he knew. All shouting, speaking to him, but there was nothing to hear. He tried to read their lips, desperate. Nothing made sense, their bodies jerked and moved as if they were being played in reverse, and the colors of their clothes and hair shifted and wavered unnaturally. White flooded his vision, and it translated into pain after a moment, making his back arch off the couch as he screamed.

"Fuck!" He grabbed his stomach, rolling onto his side in order to curl into the fetal position. Gasping for breath, he realized something besides the sound of his straining lungs was knocking at his eardrums. "What?" He glanced around, trying to force his senses to cooperate. His phone. Fumbling in his pockets, he managed to pull it out and answer without so much as a glance at the caller ID.

"Hey." Toby's voice was a strange addition to the cacophony of sensations still crawling through him.

"Toby?" He closed his eyes, blocking out the dense shadows of his dark apartment.

"Yeah, it's me. Are you alright?"

Leon curled in on himself, taking a few deep breaths.

"Sorry." He managed. "Sorry, I- I had a nightmare, and… and I think I'm sick, and-" He cut himself off. "Oh no. Toby, I'm sorry, I forgot all about dinner."

"It's okay," The phone filtered his voice, making it jump a little. "If you're sick, then it's best you stay home."

"But I…" Leon sucked in another breath through the pain in his stomach. It was lessening, but still shook through him. "I was really looking forward to spending time with you."

"Well, I'll tell you what." Toby hummed. "How about I bring some food over and play nurse for the night? You hungry?"

"Starving."

"What do you want to eat?"

"Uh…" Leon rubbed his forehead, slowly uncurling himself from the recesses of the couch. "Maybe teriyaki?"

"Sure thing. Text me your address, I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Alright. Hey, Tobes?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

True to his word, Toby showed up roughly an hour later, a bag of food in one hand, and some tea in the other. He had changed from his work clothes, and it made Leon realize that his own shirt and pants were wrinkled and messy. He excused himself to put on something more comfortable, directing his date into the living room. His nerves had flared during the wait, reminding him that he'd stood Toby up, that he really didn't deserve this second chance. It made him queasy, and after finding some clean sweatpants and an old t-shirt, he gripped the edge of his dresser, taking deep breaths.

"It's fine." He told himself. "It's fine, he's here now. He's here now, so clearly he cares. Fuck." His hands were shaking, and he clenched his fists a few times until they stopped. "Just… just go out there and sit with him." His feet moved without permission, and he took another deep breath before heading down the hall. Toby was unpacking food, his back to Leon.

"Hey, come eat, you said you were starving." He said, apparently hearing the sound of socks on the carpet.

"I am." Leon sat beside him, taking the plastic fork he was handed. The smell of the food made his stomach twist, demanding sustenance.

"General Tso's chicken, pork fried rice, miso soup, and gyoza." Toby pointed.

"You spoil me too much."

"Mhm." He winked, handing over a plate.

"You've been rooting around in my kitchen." Leon accused, laughing. "You're devious." He served himself some food, already relaxing. Toby had that effect on him, he realized. Something about his proximity calmed the nerves threatening to crush his diaphragm. He tried not to think about it too much, focusing on eating without choking.

They talked in between bites, about work, and the news, their families. Anything and everything. Leon felt his stomach start to settle as he continued to eat. He swore to Toby that he hadn't eaten this much since he'd been in high school.

"Maybe you've got low blood sugar." He said. "I wouldn't worry unless it persists. By the way, how's your back?"

"Uh… better." Leon frowned, only then realizing that the pain had all but disappeared. It was strange, but not unwelcome.

He'd slowed down after a while, setting his plate aside. Both sated, they cleaned up, packing away the leftovers and taking care of dishes, chatting like a pair of catty housewives.

"Can you stay for a bit longer? I have Halo." Leon bribed, setting his dish towel aside.

"Absolutely." Toby followed him back into the living room, quickly reclaiming his spot on the couch.

"Damn thing." Leon fussed with the cables, turning on the console. The air behind him was strangely devoid of teasing, and he turned, flushing when he realized Toby was watching his ass. "Hey!" He called. "My eyes are up here."

"Sorry." Toby shrugged. He had a wry smile on his face, rectified when Leon threw a controller at him. As the machine whirred to life, they settled into the cushions, their knees just brushing. Toby didn't seem to mind, focusing on the game. Leon licked his lips nervously as he stared at the screen.

"Damn, I don't remember any of the controls." He complained. Fussing with the buttons, he felt a bubble of frustration grow in his chest.

"You'll get it, it's like riding a bike." Toby reassured him. "Speaking of which, you know Sarah in HR?"

"Uh…" Leon rubbed his face. He swore the name was familiar, he should know who that was. "No, I… I don't think so."

"Hm." Toby gave him an odd look. "Well, she got her bike stolen from out front of the office. How shitty is that?"

"And they didn't get it on the cameras?" He caught up with Toby's character on the screen, and they took off in search of enemies.

"No, the cameras are still being rewired."

"Oh, that's right."

"They're gonna be doing the ones in the office halls next week, so it'll be easier for me to sneak into your office." Toby gave him a grin.

"Oh good, that's what I need." Leon elbowed him in jest. "I'll start saving you some paperwork."

"Paperwork?" Toby scoffed. "I was thinking something a little less PG, but if that's what you want out of our little-"

"You-" Leon sputtered. "Wh- we're not having sex in my office!"

Toby laughed, nearly dropping his controller.

"Well, we can't do it in mine, sugar, it doesn't have any walls." He teased.

"God." Leon groaned, shaking his head. "No. We'll get caught and then we'll get fired, and I won't have anyone to spoil me anymore."

"Fine, fine." Toby giggled to himself. He sat back, focusing on the game. Leon watched him out of the corner of his eye. He hadn't expected blatant talk about sex on their first date, but it was nice to know that Toby clearly had no qualms with discussing such subjects. He couldn't even find it in himself to be worried about the possibility that he was just an easy fuck. His gut and his heart, and all the other organs with sentient voices told him that he was being ridiculous, and urged him to chase after Toby.

After playing a while longer, they got ready to say goodbye. Toby put on his coat and shoes before stepping outside. He turned, catching Leon's chin in one of his hands.

"I'll see you on Monday." He was close, their noses almost touching. Up close, little freckles dotted his cheeks. Leon blinked, refocusing on the conversation.

"Yeah, I'll see you then." He said. He closed his eyes as Toby leaned in, holding as still as stone through the kiss. It was sweet, and he tried to chase after it when it was over, rewarded with another peck.

"Get some rest, Le." Toby whispered. He winked before pulling away, heading towards the stairs. Leon watched him go before heading back inside. His whole chest felt warm, and his lips were numb and tingling. Like some sort of lovesick teenager, he leaned back against the doorframe to catch his breath.

"Am I sick or just an idiot that's head over heels?" He asked himself. Strangely, the lingering dizziness and cramps were gone, as if chased away by true love's kiss. He snorted at the thought before heading to bed. There would be time to daydream about Toby and their fairytale-esque romance tomorrow.


	2. Zugzwang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zugzwang- the situation in which the obligation to make a move in one's turn is a serious, often decisive, disadvantage
> 
> The art for this chapter was done by @TopologicGamble on Twitter!

By Monday morning, Leon only felt worse. Agitated, like his skin was a size too small. Taking out his frustrations on the gym punching bag only did so much, leaving him itchy and sweaty. The phantom tingling came and went, made worse when he stepped out of the showers and realized he was hungry.

"Fuck's sake." He hissed, toweling off his hair. He swore something was wrong. It was his nature to just push through it, but whatever he was battling had proved itself to be a vicious competitor. Tucking in his dress shirt, he frowned at the concrete floor. The doctor was a last resort. He'd been poked and prodded enough in the last eleven years. Eleven years. Leon looked up, frown deepening. It had really been that long since Raccoon.

"Stupid government contracts and their stupid clauses and _stupid_ fine print and stupid, _stupid_ railroading tactics." He grabbed his towel angrily, tossing it into the laundry bin. He felt that he'd earned the right to be pissed off, but bringing that attitude into the office was a bad idea. He still had paperwork, and being pent up with rage would only make him bounce off the walls.  
Chewing on his thumbnail, he headed upstairs, nearly running into security advisor Simmons.

"Agent Kennedy." He greeted.

"Simmons." Leon scratched at his arm, willing the itch to go away.

"How are your reports coming? I wouldn't normally keep you on desk duty for so long, but I want to make sure you're healed before we send you into the field again." Simmons crossed his arms, looking down his nose. His gaze was intense, and Leon shied away automatically.

"Um- just fine. Thanks." He offered in response. "I'm headed to my office right now to get started for the day." Another itch, this time on his chest.

"Good."

Leon blinked in surprise as Simmons walked away, leaving him standing in the middle of the hall. The high ranking officials only took notice of him when they needed something, and didn't usually stop for a chat. Shrugging it off, he headed into his office. Toby was perched on the desk, donut and coffee beside him.

"You're the best." Leon sighed. He closed the door behind him, turning around to hang his coat on the hook. A hand brushed his lower back, and he smiled to himself. "Y'know, I kinda missed you." He faced Toby, trying not to stress about how close they were. "Do you want to come over for dinner- Mm!"  
Leon couldn't even be mad that his question was interrupted, not when he was being pushed up against the wall, a hungry mouth devouring his own. He wrapped his arms around Toby's neck, drawing him closer. When he was finally let up for air, he blinked a few times, too stunned for words.

"I've been thinking about you all weekend." Toby's voice was husky and urgent, and it sent a shiver through Leon's spine.

"Only pure thoughts, I hope." He teased.

"Hah. Not a chance."

The lop-sided grin that Leon loved was back for a moment, and then rerouted so Toby could continue kissing him. Hands teased his waist, pulling him forward by his belt loops. They stumbled towards the desk, and Leon's breath hitched when he was lifted onto the surface with an arm under his thighs.

"You've gotten bold." He said, careful not to knock over the coffee. "I'm almost sorry that I didn't put out on the first date."

"Sugar, I'd spread you out on this desk if I thought you'd let me." Toby said, voice muffled as he pressed sloppy kisses to Leon's neck.

"Hey." Leon tugged on his hair. "Hey. Earth to Toby." He tugged again. "If you don't quit, I might have to give in to that request. Why don't you come over for dinner tonight, and we can continue this without any interruptions. I sort of have to work while I'm here."

"Fine." Toby pulled away to give him one last, more chaste kiss, rubbing his jaw gently. "I'll be in a meeting during lunch, so don't wait up for me. I'll make it up to you tonight."

"I'm sure you will." Leon smiled, leaning back on his hands. He purposefully scanned Toby head to toe. "In more ways than one."

"Careful what you wish for, Le." With a wink, he was out the door, headed off to his cubicle. Leon sighed, hopping down off the desk. He picked up the donut, already feeling the hunger return. It was odd, being around Toby seemed to completely distract him from how sick he felt.  
It was a pleasant distraction, no doubt about it. He had no desire to complain about the doting and the affection. And then this… new entanglement, touches that made his knees weak and his cheeks hot. He couldn't remember the last time someone had kissed him like that. Maybe a drunken one night stand a few years ago, _maybe._

Regardless, he had paperwork to do. Sitting at his desk, he took a long sip of coffee. There was still a daunting pile of reports in his inbox, and he didn't doubt that more would come while he worked.

"I hate desk duty." He muttered to himself. Settling in and picking up his pen, he pulled out the first stack, frowning as he skimmed through the legal-ese. It was a request for a transfer, another agent that wanted to leave to join the BSAA. As if they didn't have enough issues with staffing. Not many people _wanted_ to be suckered into a government contract for life. The BSAA had better benefits, mandatory time off, and little to no threat of being used as a pawn in a fucked up game of chess over an oil field.

Leon signed the papers with a sigh, tossing them into the outbox. He liked being in the field because it was less bureaucratic. Just find the rich asshole with the pet monster and try not to die. Nothing too complicated.  
The next batch of papers was a report for a short mission he'd been on just before Eastern Slav. It had taken him less than a day to find the hideout of the militia group. They were careless, geotagging their photos on their twitter accounts. Small fish, compared to people like Svetlana or Saddler.  
As soon as Leon's pen touched the paper, the ink exploded, leaving a huge spot on the line for his signature.

"Fuck." He looked closer, noticing strain marks from his fingers on the cheap plastic. Had he been squeezing it that hard? Tossing the pen in the garbage, he grabbed another. Gently this time, he ignored the ink stain, and managed to sign his name properly. He could feel the itchiness from earlier returning, starting in his throat and then branching out to his arms and winding to the surface. He scratched at the fizzling nerves absent-mindedly. Maybe he needed to change his laundry detergent. Or his soap? He'd used the same shampoo and conditioner for years now, it made no sense that it would start giving him issues now. And why was he so warm? It was a good thing he kept deodorant in one of his desk drawers.  
After checking the thermostat and turning it down to a crisp 50°, he resettled in his chair. The words and lines on the paper meshed and folded together while his brain ran a mile a minute, constant daydreaming about leaving, going home, indulging in something more carnal. Sinking his teeth into Toby and marking him up. Of the noises he'd make when they coupled.

Woah.  
Leon rubbed his face. What a way to get sidetracked. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt, still sweating from the heat. It made no sense. Even when he opened a window and stood in front of it, he was still too hot. In mid-november, he should've needed a sweater to even think about stepping outside, but even his dress shirt was too much.

"Damn it." He cussed. It wasn't really an option to take it off. His stomach rumbled, reminding him of its voracious appetite. "No. You know what? Fuck this." Leon closed the window, immediately missing the breeze. He grabbed his coat, heading to Hunnigan's office. It was downstairs, on the opposite side of the complex from the gym. Thankfully, the door was open, inviting him in.

"You look awful." She said immediately.

"I know." Leon sighed. "I'm gonna go home. Can you let Simmons know? I know I need to- to stay and work, but…"

"You legitimately look like you're going to pass out. Get out of here, and go see a doctor." Hunnigan told him, making a shoo-ing motion.

"Thanks." He turned back around, heading to the parking garage. His stomach gurgled unsettlingly, like it was trying to decide whether or not to eat itself. "I ate less than an hour ago, what is the _deal?_ " Leon muttered, pulling out his keys. He sat down in the front seat, relaxing for a moment. He could go to the doctor. He probably should, all things considered, but what would they tell him? Get some rest, eat less fast food, and stop fucking around in puddles of mystery virus goop. Irritated, he pulled out his phone, opening google.  
"Let's see… hunger, nausea, cramps, and fever." He typed in. Taking in the information on the screen, he rolled his eyes before tossing the phone into the passenger seat. "Great. I either have cancer, or I'm having my first menstrual cycle."

On the drive home, he fidgeted, scratching at his arms and chest when the itchiness reared. It was like having something crawling around his nervous system, playing with the receptors in his brain like in that movie, what was it called… He frowned out the windshield. The one with the rat who wanted to be a chef. Fuck. What was it called…  
Without ever coming up with the answer, he arrived at his apartment. It seemed clinical and unwelcome at this time of day, as if the walls themselves knew that he should be at work. Leon dropped his clothes on the floor, crawling into bed. It didn't matter. He just needed some sleep, and then he'd feel better.

He dreamt of heat. Trapped inside a furnace, his limbs leadened and unresponsive. Claws like needlepoints danced over his bare skin, exploring the curve of his waist and the swell of his chest. They plucked and wandered, leaving a scratch here, a nick there. Whatever beast they belonged to- blurry, and obscured by white cloud- chittered as it rested both hands on Leon's stomach.  
His pulse was through the roof, goosebumps lining every inch of his body. He didn't know what the thing wanted, but mindless monstrosities never seemed to pop in for tea and gossip.  
As if on cue, it roared, and speared two claws deep into Leon's stomach. He screamed, snapping his head back and arching his spine. Pain was crashing through him in waves, and he sobbed as the beast twisted its claws. It was digging for something- possibly craving a late night slice of _liver de Leon_. He'd really rather that it snacked on shredded cheese like everyone else.

"Nuh-!" He screamed again when it tore its claws free, blood running in rivulets down his waist and hips. Leon smacked his hand futilely against the ground, eyes and mouth wide in shock. It had taken something- his brain was screaming that he needed to move and get away. The thing made grotesque slurping noises as it feasted, tearing through whatever vital organ it had ripped out of his torso.  
As he cried- desperate sobs that tore up his throat- Leon ran his hand over his destroyed stomach, crying harder when he felt his fingers dip into torn up skin and muscle.  
"Oh- oh god." He swallowed hard, trying to calm his breathing- well past erratic, bordering on hyperventilation. Blackness began to close in on him, and he realized he was welcoming the deadened feeling of going into shock.

"No!" He yelled out loud, shooting upright in bed. Panicked hands clawed at his stomach, only relaxing when he couldn't find any damage. "Oh god." Leon rolled sideways, falling to his knees on the carpet. His stomach churned, and he hurried to the bathroom, emptying his stomach into the commode.  
"Shit." He breathed, a string of saliva hanging from his lip. He stared into nothing, waiting for another dry heave or cramp- anything. Nothing came up, but the shake in his arms and legs long overstayed its welcome. He cleaned himself up without incident, washing out his mouth in the sink. As soon as he felt able, he crawled back into bed, hiding beneath the covers. The sheets were drenched in sweat, and he grimaced before reluctantly scooting away from the puddle.

_Hey, I went home sick, but I'd still really like it if you came over for dinner._

He texted Toby, hoping he'd agree. He craved the closeness they had, needed it, especially when the sick feeling of his dream evisceration rattled around inside his chest.

_Of course, sugar. I'll be there in a bit, want me to pick up dinner again?_

_No,_ Leon replied. _I'll order pizza. Just get over here and finish what you started this morning._

After the confirmation, he got up, putting on some gym shorts and a tank top. He was still so warm, everything felt humid and sticky. The itch had come back full force with the heat, and he rubbed his skin raw before he realized what he was doing.  
"Damn it. Focus." Leon opened the window in his room, letting in some cool air. He stripped the bed, changing the sheets and letting the comforter air out. He had plans, and he wouldn't let a little stomach flu get in the way. Or… whatever this was. Unconsciously, he rubbed his stomach, right over where the plaga had taken root, where Luis' machine had burned through him. It didn't hurt anymore, the sting had gone away after his first week back in the states, but he guarded the spot more closely now, unable to tell if the increased sensitivity was real or just a reflex.

Knocking on his front door startled him out of his daze, and he shuffled over. Unlocking the chain and deadbolt, he found his little old neighbor lady wringing her hands on his doorstep.

"I- I heard a scream, are you alright?" She asked, voice feeble.

"I'm sorry." Leon apologized. "I had a bad dream. I'm alright though. Thank you, Ms. Larson." He smiled at her as best he could. The itch was starting again, on his neck this time, and he fought the urge to claw at it.

"Okay." She looked him over, brow furrowed with worry. "You don't look so good, honey, do you need anything?"

"Oh, n-" Leon looked up, seeing Toby come up the stairs behind her. "Uh, no, thank you. I've got someone here to take care of me."

Ms. Larson turned around, jumping in surprise.  
"Oh!" She placed a hand over her heart.

"My apologies." Toby inclined his head. "I didn't mean to startle you, ma'am. I'm Toby."

"This is Ms. Larson, my neighbor." Leon introduced them.

"Oh? Is he giving you trouble?" Toby smiled, mirth in his eyes.

"No, no, dear." Ms. Larson waved her hand. "I heard him having a nightmare and I was worried, that's all. I'm glad you're here to look after him." She looked between them. "Now, Leon, if he's not around and you need anything, you come see me, alright?"

"Yes ma'am." Leon nodded at her.

"Good. You boys have a nice night." She waved before hobbling back down the hall to her apartment.

"Nightmare, huh?" Toby stepped inside when Leon tugged on his arm.

"Yeah." He sighed. "I… I don't know why, usually they're not this frequent, I just… I don't know, stress?"

"Hm. Could be." Toby looked him over. "You uh… you dress up just for me?"

"Wh-" Leon looked down, flushing when he realized just how much skin he was showing. "Oh."

"Well, Ms. Larson certainly wasn't complaining, and I'm not about to either."

"Shut up." Leon shoved him gently, leading him into the living room. He pulled Toby down onto the couch before straddling his lap, leaning in to kiss him. It felt like a wave of cool air, as if just touching the other man was enough to bring down his fever. And maybe it was- Leon wouldn't be surprised. He pushed deeper into the kiss, forgoing air to feel the slide of tongue against his lower lip. Hands crept up his thighs, teasing the hem of his shorts before skipping over them to push his shirt up his waist. He stripped out of it, tossing it aside before tugging at the t-shirt Toby was wearing.

"Right here?" Toby asked, breathless. He lifted his arms obediently, smiling lazily when hands rubbed over his bare chest.

"Fuck- I don't care." Leon panted, feeling warm all over again, though he was sure it was for a different reason.

"Come on. It'll be more comfortable in bed." Toby urged. He tapped Leon's thigh, chuckling when he received an annoyed groan. They moved to the bedroom, and Toby grunted in surprise when he was immediately grabbed by the belt buckle and thrown onto the sheets  
"Alright, alright." He held up his hands. Leon ignored him, kneeling between his legs and pulling his pants open.

"Shoes off." He ordered, already tugging on jeans and underwear. He took a moment to appreciate the lean muscle in front of him, eyes catching on a tattoo just above one well sculpted hip. As Toby kicked his shoes off, Leon leaned forward, biting just above the ink and worrying a hickey into soft skin.  
"What's this?" He asked between bites, running his thumb over it.

"Sparrows are symbolic of returning home, going back to your roots." Toby explained. He pushed and pulled the rest of his clothes off, sitting back on one elbow. His other hand brushed brunette bangs away from Leon's face.

"I see. I kinda… kinda have a thing for tattoos. Hate needles too much to get one myself, but… they're hot. Especially on you." Leon whispered, following Toby's happy trail down to the base of his dick. He mouthed at the hot skin there, looking up to see the reaction he got. He wasn't disappointed, smiling when he saw furrowed, concentrated brows and parted lips.  
"Mm." He moaned, kissing and licking at the vein he'd discovered. It disappeared near the head, but he took the initiative, swallowing Toby down hungrily. The warm weight felt good on his tongue, sliding down his throat. Leon moaned again, opening his eyes when the hand in his hair tightened.

"Shit, Le-" Toby cussed. He ran his thumb over where Leon's lips stretched around his cock, fascinated. "Thought we were having pizza for dinner- Mm!"

"Dessert first." Leon licked his lips after pulling off his treat, nice and slow. "God, I want this inside me." He groaned, eagerly licking up the pre-cum spilling out.

"Sugar, you're gonna have to slow down if that's what you- hah!" Toby hissed when Leon sucked him down to the base, swallowing greedily before pulling away to show the saliva connecting them. "Jesus."

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

"No." Leon stood up, wiping his face and ignoring how his knee popped. He slid his shorts and briefs over his hips, not missing how Toby stared. As an afterthought, he opened the drawer on his nightstand, snagging a bottle of lube. He smirked at the raised eyebrow thrown in his direction.  
"What? I'm flexible."

"Is that a promise?" Toby pulled him back into his lap, grinding them together sloppily.

"Fuck yeah." Leon moaned into a kiss, biting down on Toby's lip. He leaned backwards, and they fell in a heap. "I've felt awful all day, but as soon as you touch me, it feels like I can breathe again." He ran his hands over any bare skin he could reach, wanting to touch, to know it was real.

"Hm. Lovesick." Toby teased. He pressed a string of kisses along an arched neck, getting messier as he went. His teeth nipped and pulled at skin as he made his way down Leon's collar and chest, leaving little marks behind.

"Hah. Funny." Leon ran his fingers through Toby's hair, tugging on it gently. "C'mon, the pizza place closes at midnight, so we have to finish this before then."

"I don't know how I feel about deadlines." Toby squeezed lube onto his fingers, warming it up before he circled Leon's hole. "Relax, I'll take care of it."

"Just hurry up."

"Impatient." He chided, pressing his middle finger in slowly. Leon shuddered at the feeling.

"F- Fuck, I can take more." He groaned out. Another finger pressed in beside the first, and he moaned in approval. "Toby." He reached out, satisfied when his lover moved so they could kiss without interrupting the crooked fingers deep inside him.

"Feels good?" Toby asked in between hungry kisses. His fingers shifted, and Leon let out a choked cry before he could stop himself.

"Hu- uh-huh." He nodded, nails scratching bluntly at Toby's back. "Right there."  
Leon kept kneading and pulling at warm skin as he was worked over, teased and toyed with until he was deemed ready.  
"Toby…" He pleaded. Kisses on his chest made him moan, pitching up when he felt Toby's cock press against him. "Shit-" He searched for something to grab onto, needing something to negate the stretch of being filled.

"Relax." Toby soothed, twining their fingers together. He used his free hand to guide himself deeper, holding onto Leon's hip. "Too much?"

"No, more." Leon demanded. He nearly choked when the first thrust knocked the wind out of him. "Yeah." He found his voice. "Harder."

Toby chuckled softly, obeying. Leon's senses quickly became hazy, focused on chasing his pleasure. He felt so good, he didn't hurt or itch anywhere and Toby was nailing his prostate on every thrust. If he had a finger or two of bourbon, he'd swear he was in heaven. Reaching between them, he jerked himself off in time with the throbbing of his nerves, stimulated so well. It was like something warm and hot was rushing through him, fueling his lust. He wanted Toby regardless, but this was… extra. It made him vocal, his moans turning to cries and his whimpers to breathless, gasped out versions of Toby's name.  
When he came, he swore everything stopped, just for a moment. The heartbeat in his ear, the sound of their breathing, the rotation of the earth, everything. Then, he slammed back into reality, his toes curled in pleasure.

"Fuck!" Toby hissed, following him a moment later. His hand was tight on shaking hips, the skin white and numb. Leon looked forward to pressing on the bruises later as he got off to the memory. As it was, all he could do was hold on, moaning at the blissed out look on Toby's face.  
They kissed, slower this time, both already out of breath.

"God damn." Leon cupped Toby's face with trembling hands. "You might have to answer the door for pizza, I don't think I can walk."

"Huh?" Toby laughed. "You really are hungry." He teased.

"Been hungry since you ravished me in my office this morning."

"Alright, I can answer the door. You have them on speed dial?" He fished Leon's phone out of his shorts, wadded up on the floor. A pink tongue flicked out at him as the device was nabbed from his hand.

Leon waited for a retaliation as he held the phone to his ear. He was right to do so, as soon as the other end picked up, Toby nibbled at his free earlobe, making it difficult to speak to the very rushed, very underpaid teenager on the other end of the line.  
Thankfully their conversation was short and incredibly awkward. Leon tossed the phone aside after he hung up, dragging Toby into a long kiss.

"Will you stay the night?" He asked.

"Of course."

"Good. I have some ideas for breakfast." He couldn't help but grin at how hard Toby lost it, falling sideways onto the bed. They joked until they were both a mess of giggles, high off endorphins and sappy thoughts.

* * *

"Everything is in place?" Simmons asked, taking slow steps back and forth in front of his desk.

"Yes." Toby tensed his shoulders, looking away. "I… have some concerns about the ethicality of-"

"You knew from the beginning that this would not be sunshine and roses." Simmons cut him off. "Your job was to get close enough to install the devices inside Agent Kennedy's apartment. I said nothing about falling in love with him. You did that on your own."

"Sir-" Toby spat out, anger making him bristle even further.

"Must I remind you what's at stake here, Agent Cardoso?" Simmons crossed his arms. "I could simply go in there and subdue him myself, but I guarantee it will be much more painful for Leon than if you continue to play your role."

"No. I'll do it."

"That's what I thought." Dark eyes flashed, watching Toby fight off his rage. "At least you're getting a good fuck out of it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did promise some plot. The porn is a bonus.


	3. Verschlimmbessern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verschlimmbessern  
> To make something worse while trying to improve it
> 
> The art for this chapter was done by @TopologicGamble on Twitter!

Leon made it exactly a week before breaking down. The nightmares were the worst part. The nausea left him shaky and tired, the fever made him itch and sweat, but the nightmares… The nightmares were hitting hard, often scaring him awake with the air stolen from his lungs. He curled into a ball on the floor, knees to his chest while he tugged on his hair and gave into the weakness growing behind his lungs. Shivers wracked through him, exacerbated by how quickly his body was burning through food. It was hell, and he'd finally lost his composure, unable to take it anymore. The burn in his chest was starting to move towards his throat, and he knew he'd be too strangled by it to talk soon. He hated that feeling, hated being paralyzed by it.  
Toby was already on his way over, promising he'd be there ASAP after Leon had begged him to hurry. He had debated sending the text for almost an hour, psyching himself up over whether or not he was being clingy. The thought had ricocheted around him a thousand times, _What if he's too busy? You're really a handful, so needy. He's a busy guy. He said yes, but what if he forgot? It's been a while, shouldn't he be here by now? Would texting to ask be annoying? Is that too much? I just need to talk to-_

"Sugar?"

Leon raised his head, looking up towards the noise. Toby closed the front door behind him.  
"Why are you on the floor, Le?" He asked, kneeling down. "Are you hurt?"

"No." Leon uncurled slowly, dragging himself closer. Toby sat down on the hardwood, pulling him into a hug.  
"I just… feel sick. Need to- to be around you."

"Why's that?" Toby kissed the top of his head, one hand rubbing gentle circles between Leon's shoulders.

"I don't know." His voice shook. "It just… it just gets better whenever you're here."

"That's… odd." Toby kissed him again, softer. "Maybe you just need a few days of someone taking care of you, yeah?"

"Maybe." Leon didn't sound convinced. "Need to work."

"You're still on medical leave, you nearly gave the nurse a heart attack. A temperature of 104 is no joke, sugar. They want you well before you go back. I have plenty of vacation days, I'll take some time off and stay with you."

"You don't have to-"

"I want to." Toby stroked Leon's hair, smoothing it down. "I want to take care of you."

"But-"

"Sh." Toby kissed the crown of his head once more for good measure. "If being around me eases whatever's hurting you, then it's worth using up some vacation time to get you back on the mend."

"Toby-"

"Leon." He chuckled. "It's okay. We're… we're dating now, it's my job to look out for you."

"I- I guess." Leon sighed, tilting his head up to look Toby in the eyes. "See? I could barely stand before you got here, but now I almost feel up to an ice cream run."

"Hm." Toby helped him up, steadying his wobbly legs. "Well, I'm not letting you walk anywhere until you're more steady, but then we'll see about getting ice cream." He used his thumb to brush away a stray eyelash, clearly an excuse to admire soft, blue eyes.

"Never would have pegged you as the mom friend." Leon said, blinking up at him. He cracked a smile when Toby looked taken aback for a moment.

"Oh, fuck." He said quietly. "I _am_ the mom friend."

* * *

It was good, their time together. The days after that were easy, lazy mornings, afternoons, and evenings where they laughed and talked. One night, more memorable than the others, they had danced. Leon had put on some music to accompany the pasta dinner they'd made, and it had gotten further and further off base until they'd both felt compelled to get up and move- almost surely due to the amount of wine they'd consumed. Toby had pulled him close by the waist, and they had slow danced, foreheads touching. It was almost grossly intimate. After some thinking, he had come to the realization that he was crushing hard. Affection and vulnerability weren't things he had allowed himself, but now he was diving in head first.

Another night, they'd laid in bed, sweaty from pleasing each other. Head to chest, Leon had listened to Toby's heartbeat, counted it methodically. It was steady and slightly fast, likely due to their coupling.

"Sugar?" Toby's voice had been soft, quiet in the dark of the room. "The… The DSO. They give me medical insurance, they… control all that."

"Yeah?" He'd asked, perking up.

"I… I have a neurodegenerative disease, and I have to take medication to keep it in check. If they… if they learn about us, if they know how close we are, they might… I'm scared that they'll make me choose between you or the meds."

"What? That's-" Leon had frowned, shocked. "Then you choose the meds. We can always figure something out. Even if we have to take a break to throw them off. It… it's worth it, to me, even if I have to wait to be with you."

Toby had kissed him then, something urgent behind his sweeping tongue and wandering hands. They'd ended up going another round, slow and passionate this time. Their usual dirty talk and shameless seduction replaced with reverent kisses and whispered affection. Everything was drawn out, made to last, made to please.

 _"I love you!"_  
He'd gasped, orgasm tearing through him.

Somewhere, somehow, Derek C. Simmons got the feeling that all of his puzzle pieces had fallen into place.

* * *

Leon had woken up alone, the sheets cold beside him. Toby had started going back to work a few days ago, careful not to wake him after determining that he simply needed a break. Time to heal, to focus on something other than his next suicidal mission. It seemed to be working, he felt much better, and had nary a cramp for the last few days. His fever had broken after a day or two, which boded well for his return to the office.  
He wanted to go back, be normal again. When he was doing paperwork, he could almost pretend that he had a filing job at some nondescript company. His boyfriend worked in accounting, and every night, they left the office to go home together. Safe and sound, no one played cards with the grim reaper or knocked on Hades' door. They lived a simple, domestic life where no one had a chance of coming home in a biohazard bag.  
Leon cursed himself. If he kept up that charade, he'd go down a dark path. Both him and Toby worked to save people, and it was an important job. They were both good, there was no reason to doubt that. They would be fine, and he had to believe it, else he'd spend his whole life worrying.

Disentangling himself from the sheets proved to be easier said than done, the darkness of early morning hampering his usual grace and finesse. He felt sore, though he had an inkling that the tension in his body was from the more… strenuous activities that he'd engaged in the night before. Fumbling down the hall, he flicked on the light for the bathroom. It was hard on his eyes, still wanting to stay in the dark and sleep. Rubbing them, he glanced in the mirror. What the hell? Toby had promised not to leave any conspicuous hickies.  
A second look made him freeze, his blood running cold. Blisters and bruises dotted his skin, starting just below his jaw and going down past his hips, beyond what he could see in the mirror. Horrified, he looked down, seeing the marks from above. They looked horrible, red around the edges, raw and open.  
As his chest started to contract, breathing coming in sharp pants, he looked back in the mirror. Little purple veins crawled over his cheek, drawing his gaze to the dark circles underneath his eyes. As he made eye contact with himself, he was shocked to find red circling his pupils.

"No!" Leon yelled, stumbling backwards. He careened into the wall, knocking himself down onto wobbly knees. On reflex, he curled into a ball, pressing his face to the cold linoleum. His sobs filled the quiet space of the room, almost as if they bounced off the tile and came back at him full force. Memories, of thick needles, hands on his chest and waist, shackles, horrible things, all passed through him. The memory of Bitores Mendez, choking him as if he weighed nothing. Coughing up blood, the way the veins had appeared on his arms-  
Leon retched, grabbing his stomach. Shaking hands pushed him over to the commode, and he clung onto it, reeling from the memories.  
Passing out, how vulnerable he'd been. The deep, unsettling ache when he'd been under Saddler's control, when he'd nearly choked out Ada. He hadn't been in control, but oh _god_ had he been aware. And this… this wasn't like that, but fuck, he must be infected, he _had_ to be. Even on his trembling fingers, red sores sat, painful as he gripped the toilet seat.

How?

He racked his brain, trying desperately to figure out how he could have been injected or dosed with something, but his memories felt hazy. He remembered being in the Eastern Slav Republic, he remembered Toby, he remembered… what was in between those two?  
Something… what had happened?

He paused to vomit, chest heaving.

It was like he'd missed time. He had no idea what day it was, but the ligature marks from the zip cuffs were gone, so it had to be at least a week or two after he'd come home. Had something happened on the mission? Was he missing pieces there, too? What about further back? Could he remember Harvardville? Spain? Raccoon? He thought he could, at least vaguely.  
What if he hadn't been infected, what if he'd been poisoned instead? He should get help. From where?

Leon pushed himself away from the wall he'd slumped against, using the counter to get to his feet. His knees wobbled, but he stayed upright, managing to get back to the bed. His phone sat under the pillow, and he grabbed it as he collapsed into the sheets. The blisters protested the treatment, sending sparks of pain up his side.

"Uhn!" He curled in on himself. It was one thing to have a sore on your heel after getting new boots. It was another thing to have them on every joint in your body for no reason. Taking a deep breath, he unlocked his phone. His contacts stared back at him. Who was he calling? Help. He needed help. It was getting hard to focus, hard to stay on track. Who was he calling? Work. He was calling in sick. He didn't feel good, he really needed a vacation, time to recover. Who was he calling?

Toby.

He let it ring, holding the device to his ear. It was so hard to stay on topic. What had happened? Had he fallen? Why did everything hurt? Where were his clothes? His own bare skin felt odd, like it was 30 degrees too hot. Sweat dripped into his eyes, making it hard to see the chair he'd been having a staring contest with.

"Hey!"

Sound broke through his train of thought.

"Leon! Answer me!"

"Huh?" He croaked out, voice small.

"Leon, are you okay?"

"Toby."

"Yeah, it's me. Are you alright?"

"I'm-" His reflex was to say "fine", but that would be a boldfaced lie. "I don't know."

"What do you mean? Do you need me to come home?"

"I- I… um-" Leon wiped his forehead, the touch stinging the blisters on his hand. "Ow."

"Ow? Sugar, answer me, are you okay? You're scaring me."

"Uh- Toby, um." Why had he called? Oh yeah. "I- I threw up."

"What?"

"I threw up. Uh, I think. I think I did."

"Okay. Le, I'm coming home. I'll be there in about 15 minutes, alright? Stay there and sip some water if you can."

"Mm. Mhm."

"Leon? You awake?"

"I am."

"Good. Stay that way for me."

"Mmm. Love you." For some reason, it felt natural.

"I love you too."

Toby hung up after that, probably grabbing his coat to head for his car. The stride he had, the way his shoulders sat so square. Leon could picture it, could see the swagger in his step. It was comforting, swaying back and forth, left, right, left, right, left…  
He was dozing off before he realized, unable to remember what the stab of panic in his chest was from.

"Hey! What did I say about napping?"

"Nuh… Hmm?" Leon groaned out, reluctant to be pulled from the deep sleep he had settled in.

"Leon, come on, wake up."

"Not yet." He begged, moaning when cold hands touched his skin. They felt so good, cooling him wherever they moved.

"C'mon, sit up. Let me get a look at you."

"Toby?" He mumbled.

"I'm right here. C'mon, up you get."  
He was lifted upright, the chill of winter clothes soothing his flushed skin.  
"Sugar, you're burning up." Toby told him, touching his forehead. "Let's get you to a doctor."

"The… the sores." He could remember bits and pieces before passing out, little horrific spats where he swore he had lost his mind.

"I see 'em." Toby was moving his legs, pulling something on him- dressing him, he realized.

"Toby?"

"Still here, Le."

"It… it's just like the plaga." Leon swayed dangerously, fingers digging into the sheets. "Toby, don't let it hatch, don't let them infect me."

"Hush." Toby steadied him, stroking his cheek. Cold hands felt so good on his face, working against the fever that had taken root.  
"I won't, sugar. I won't let him hurt you."

"T- Toby…" He moaned, eyes fluttering. It was hard to stay awake, hard to focus on the man in front of him. He felt like he was swimming through sand, dry and hot, slower than molasses. Toby's voice sounded foggy and far away, muted by the walls put up by feverish hallucinations. The world tilted and swirled, making him gag and struggle to get upright.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay."  
Toby was carrying him, he realized. Leon could hear his own heartbeat, echoing inside his ears. It was near-deafening, pounding through his skull. He was taken back to his high school years, nights spent in his Jeep, parked on the lake's edge while listening to too-loud music and laughing with his friends.  
This was nothing like that. He could only stare into the distance, his vision uncooperative, as he was carried out to Toby's car. He was distantly aware of Toby talking to him, trying to get his attention, but letting his eyes roll back into his head was much more appealing.

* * *

"What did you do?" Toby hissed, putting himself between his boss and Leon's hospital bed.  
"What the _hell_ did you do?"

"You were holding up progress." Simmons said carefully. "I know you've been using your strain to limit how badly it affects him. It's slowing the growth. Again, if you don't do this, I will. I upped the dose to make up for lost time. I expect further cooperation, Agent Cardoso."

Toby watched him leave, his jaw set. He turned back towards the bed, sweeping his eyes across it.

"Damn it." He moved over, sitting on the edge of the gurney. The doctor had sedated Leon heavily, keeping him from scratching or picking at the blisters. They'd worsened, his body unable to keep up with how the virus was changing his DNA. He looked miserable, pale and gaunt. Toby brushed Leon's bangs away from his forehead, trailing his fingers over the stubble that was growing in on his jaw.  
"I promised I'd protect you, but I don't know how." He whispered. "Stuck between a rock and a hard place here, sugar." He stretched out on the bed, careful not to disturb leaden limbs and stained bandages. "I'm gonna have to do something drastic, aren't I?"

He didn't get a response, save for the steady beep of the heart rate monitor behind him. Toby settled in for the night, propping one arm behind his head. For far too long, he merely stared up at the ceiling, weighing his options. Simmons' plan was coming to a head, he was running out of excuses, out of ways to fool himself.

* * *

When Leon came to, he still felt like he was dragging his brain through quicksand. It took him a few minutes to process where he was, what he was wearing, and the machines around him. Slowly, he began testing his strength, moving his hands and feet before graduating to knees and elbows. The door to his room opened, and Toby pushed aside the curtain, followed by Simmons. They both looked tense, but seemed to mask it when they realized he was awake.

"Morning." Toby came over, sitting beside him. Leon reached for him, trying not to stare at the bandages on his arm. He threaded their fingers together, desperate to have something to hold on to.  
"How are you feeling?" Toby squeezed his hand.

"Like shit." Leon whispered. He blinked slowly. "What happened?"

"You passed out on me. The doctors think you came into contact with some sort of virus while you were in Eastern Slav. They've given you some medicine that should help, but it's going to take a few days to work. In the meantime, they're going to send you home, and I'm going to be your nurse again."

"Again?" Leon cracked a smile. "I don't think you ever left, not that I'm complaining."

"Aw, you like it." Toby teased. "The doc will be in soon to clear you to be discharged, then I'll take you home."

"Can we stop for ice cream?" Leon closed his eyes, still groggy. He wanted to take a Rip Van Winkle style nap and wake up free from blisters and his overwhelming fever.

"Sure." Toby leaned over, kissing his forehead. "But you're staying in the car, you look like a mummy."

"Nyeh!" Leon stuck his tongue out and scrunched up his face. He jumped when Simmons cleared his throat, reminding them of his presence.

"I'm glad to see you awake, Agent Kennedy." He said. "The DSO will continue to keep you on sick leave until you've fully healed from this... incident."

"Right." Leon nodded. "Thank you." He fidgeted, unable to bring himself to meet Simmons' gaze.

"I'll be in touch with you, Agent Cardoso." Simmons said curtly. He left without another word, shutting the door behind him. Leon squeezed Toby's hand, frowning to himself.

"He seems… tense."

"Two of his agents are out of commission." Toby said cooly. "He's unhappy that I'm more loyal to you than to him."

"What about your medicine?" Leon looked up. "You said he might…" He trailed off.

"We'll see." Toby gave him a small smile. "For right now, just focus on getting better, okay? I'll worry about appeasing him."

* * *

Leon nestled deeper into the nest of blankets, hiding his face. The fever was still ravaging him, but now he had chills racing up and down his body as well. His muscles ached, like he had pushed himself too hard at the gym. His symptoms were all over the map, which didn't make sense to him, but he soldiered on, taking the meds whenever Toby brought them, and guzzling down water as fast as he dared.

"Hey, sugar."

Speak of the devil. Leon glanced up, trying to look as pathetic as possible to get Toby to crawl into bed with him. He was feeling needy, wanting to be held and pampered. It worked, or maybe he looked even worse than he felt. Regardless, he welcomed the embrace he was pulled into, inhaling the detergent that lingered on Toby's shirt.  
"Tired." He mumbled, closing his eyes when fingers threaded through his hair and scratched gently at his scalp. "But I'm too scared to sleep."

"Why's that?" Toby kissed the top of his head.

"Nightmares." Leon craned his neck, reaching up with a shaky hand to pull Toby down into a proper kiss. It felt like ages since they'd kissed, though he vaguely remembered something sweet and chaste when they'd first come home from the hospital. They'd both tasted like ice cream, cold and sticky. Their current engagement was nothing like that. Leon curled his tongue behind Toby's front teeth, teasing and playing as much as he could. He didn't want to sleep, didn't want to subject himself to the night terrors. He wanted to exhaust himself with sex so he could pass out hard enough to skip the whole ordeal. Weirdly, the pull and tug on his consciousness, the hindrance that made him so forgetful, seemed to agree with that wish. It seemed to find Toby just as attractive as Leon did.

"Sugar-" Toby started to say, cut off with another desperate kiss. He didn't protest as Leon pushed him onto his back and fought with his clothing.  
"You should be resting."

"I will, after I ride you until I can't hold myself up." Leon said, feeling the wave of lust overtake him. He was liable to say something even more filthy if his brain remained so clouded. As a distraction, he pulled the shirt he was wearing over his head, making sure to arch his back and grind down with his hips. On cue, Toby grabbed his thighs, kneading them as he watched the show. Leon removed his briefs next, tossing them aside playfully. Toby was still only half undressed, but that didn't bother him. He grabbed the bottle of lube from the nightstand and squirted a generous amount onto his hand before getting to work. It was an inconvenience, having to stretch himself open, but he took pleasure in the vulgarity of his position. He almost felt irresistible.

"Shit." Toby agreed. He ran his hands up Leon's thighs, squeezing his hips gently. "You're gonna be the death of me, sugar." He dipped his hand between wantonly spread legs, teasing the spot where two fingers met warm, pliant flesh. Leon bucked and whimpered, crying out when Toby slipped a finger in beside the two of his own that were already stretching him out.

"Fuck- get- get in me already." He groaned. He pulled away, wasting precious seconds on undoing Toby's pants. Once his prize was freed, he rearranged himself to sink down on it, moaning at the stretch.  
"Mm." Leon's body sang, happy to be filled. It wanted more, wanted him to fuck himself silly on that wonderful cock. He bounced up and down in a short, tight rhythm, reluctant to pull away for longer than necessary. Both hands braced him on Toby's chest, and he opened bleary, lust-clouded eyes to see his boyfriend looking up at him with reverence. It was too pure, like they were an old married couple, and not two agents who'd only known each other for a few months. He moaned, arching his back to take him in deeper. "Stop looking at me like that, you'll make me fall in love with you or something."

Toby stared for a moment before cracking a smile.  
"I haven't already?" He chuckled. "Damn, I was trying my hardest."

"Try harder, then." Leon pinched the skin beneath his fingers, fluttering his eyelashes when the resulting flinch caused the cock inside him to shift even deeper. "Oh. Yeah, like that. Do that again." His request was granted, though he had an inkling that if he asked Toby for anything with a wrecked groan, he'd get a positive response. Of course, the noises he made were icing on the cake compared to how happily he was seated on warm thighs.

"Something like that?" Toby teased. Leon bit his lip, rocking into the next twitch. He nodded, loving the harsher movement. He knew he wouldn't last long, his legs didn't have the strength and his body didn't have the stamina. He was right, and only a few minutes later, his cum leaked onto the warm skin beneath him. Toby didn't seem to mind, and the long moan Leon made seemed to coax him into his own orgasm. They spent several labored breaths simply relaxing, enjoying the afterglow.

"Here." Toby finally said, crooking his finger.

"Huh?"

"C'mere." He held out his arms. Leon gave in, ignoring the mess of cum between them. The sweat on their bodies made their skin stick and pull, but it was worth it to squirm until they were nearly melded together. He let out a content groan when Toby began touching his back, slow strokes that soothed him more than he wanted to admit. His limbs were heavy like stone, his thighs sore. It was only natural to close his eyes and let himself sleep.

* * *

Leon woke to the sound of a hushed voice, words too quiet for him to decipher. He opened his eyes, groaning softly at new aches and pains that manifested all over his body.

"Yeah, he's awake now." The voice said, a little clearer. "Understood. No. I'll call you."

"Toby?" Leon meant for his voice to be stronger, but it came out in a pitiful whine. He managed to focus, seeing Toby pacing in front of his closet, dressed in his boxers and a t-shirt.

"I said I understand. I have to go." He hung up abruptly. "Yeah, hey, it's alright."

"What…" Leon rolled onto his back, his whole body leaden. "What's going on?"

"That was Simmons." Toby sat beside him, stroking his hair. "It seems like the medicine isn't working, you're getting worse. We're going to see another doctor tomorrow, okay?"

"What?" Leon reached for him with trembling hands. He stilled when he saw his own skin, coated in sick, blue veins. "Toby-" He began to panic.

"Shh, shh." Toby took his hand, squeezing gently. "I know you're scared, I am too. But it's okay, we'll get this figured out."

"No!" Leon felt tears start to well up, and he tried to blink them away. "No, it's just like the plagas, you have to get it out of me, please. Please, get it out!"

"There's nothing inside you, sugar. I promise. They would've seen it at the hospital." Toby sighed. "Whatever it is, we'll figure out a way to beat it. I promise."

"I can't-"

"Yes you can. You always find a way, Le, this won't be any different."

"No." Leon shook his head, regretting his decision when his brain ricocheted around in his skull. Splitting pain made him cry out and arch his back. The headache he'd pushed to the back of his mind made itself known with a vengeance, and the tears finally spilled out. He gave in, too exhausted to hold back any longer. Long, breathy sobs shook his chest, made worse by the cramps and the ravenous hunger.  
"I don't want to be a monster." He forced out.

"You're not, sugar." Toby pulled him close, petting his hair and tracing gentle patterns on his skin. He seemed to be at a loss for words, stunned by how quickly Leon's condition had worsened.  
"You're going to be just fine. I promise."

Leon wiped his eyes, silently berating himself for giving in and crying. He curled his fingers around a fistful of Toby's shirt, hanging on to him.  
"It feels really bad." He said. "I feel like I'm on fire."

"You're flushed and sweaty, your temperature probably went back up." Toby seemed upset. "Let's get you cooled off. As your nurse, I prescribe a cold shower and as little clothing as possible." He smiled. "Although I definitely have some bias in my treatment plan."

"Better than a sponge bath." Leon said. He let Toby manhandle him until he could get his feet beneath him. Standing was a whole other beast. His legs were like cardboard, folding beneath his weight.

"Shit!" Toby caught him, pulling him back upright. "Careful, sugar, I don't want to call Lifealert for you."

"Haha. Funny. Why can't I walk?" Leon slung one of his arms around Toby's neck, desperate for the extra support. "Why can't- why do I feel so weak?"

"I don't know. Let's… let's get you into the bath, huh? I don't want to risk putting you in the shower if you can't stand." Toby reasoned. "I'll set you back down while I run some water, okay? Don't try to move, save your strength."

"What strength?"

"I know." Toby lowered him back against the blankets. His fingers were gentle, brushing over Leon's forehead and tucking out of place bangs behind his ear. "I'll be back in a minute or two."  
He moved away, heading down the hall. Leon closed his eyes, wallowing in the horrid humidity of his own skin. His stomach growled and turned, demanding he get up and feed himself. Even if he had the strength to stand, he doubted that he could force himself to eat. While he wanted food, he knew the smell alone would make him vomit. The virus inside him, the _thing_ inside him was becoming vicious. It wanted complete control, and it was well on its way to getting it. His lips parted of their own accord, trying to breathe around the nausea. Dread coiled deep inside him, and as it built, he began to wonder if it was physical, with the way it stretched and pulled. His eyes snapped open, and he forced aching limbs to cooperate. When he propped himself up on one elbow, he was able to watch with horror as prominent appendages moved beneath his skin. They tickled when they didn't punch into something vital. One coiled up towards his chest before he was able to let out a strangled scream and claw at his skin.

"No!" He sobbed, slamming his fist into his gut in an effort to smash the tentacles. "Get out! Get out!" One appeared on his thigh, and he punched it hard, barely registering the accompanying pain.

"Leon!" Toby rushed over, grabbing his wrists. They collapsed against the sheets in a heap, thrown forward with his momentum. "Hey, hey, just calm down!"

"Get it out!" Leon tried to yank his wrists away. He sobbed when Toby held firm, keeping him pinned to the bed. "Toby, please. Please get them out." He begged.

"What? Get what out?" Frantic eyes searched his face, desperate to calm him. Leon twisted once more.

"The thing inside me, I can feel it, I can _see_ it, Toby, get it out!"

"What?" Toby let go of his wrists and pulled back to touch his stomach, hands like cold water over fried nerves. "Look, you're okay, there's nothing here." He said, gently touching the red mark from Leon's fist.

"Huh?" Unable to believe it, he tried to see for himself, frustration bubbling up into a helpless cry when he saw his body, bruised, but no longer writhing. "Toby, I swear, I swear there was… there was…" Leon bit down on his wrist, brow furrowing. His eyes swept across his stomach and thighs, searching for any sign that what he'd seen had been real.

"Hey, it's okay." Toby nudged him gently, taking the bitten wrist and rubbing gently at the indented teeth marks. "You have a high fever, sugar, I wouldn't be surprised if you started hallucinating-"

"I wasn't!" Leon looked at him in a panic. "It was real! I swear it was!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to doubt you." Toby pulled him into a tight embrace, kissing his forehead. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out, alright?"

"I know what it is, it's the plaga." Leon shook his head, but curled further into Toby. "What else could it be?"

"I don't know, but there has to be something. The plaga you encountered in Spain, did it stick around this long?"

"God, no." Leon sighed. "It… it was injected into my neck and…" He stared blankly at the curve of Toby's shoulder, waiting for his brain to catch up with his mouth. No memories stayed solid, gone before he could latch onto them. The only consistent visions were brief, startling flashes of Ashley and Krauser. It was the same story with the garradors, their horrible groans were crystal clear, but the details of his infection, of its slow grip on his body, were fuzzy and vague. He remembered throwing up blood, but nothing else, static overwhelming him until his brain strapped him into the memory of the unending pain from Luis' machine. It burned his lungs, like dry ice coating his esophagus. Vicious and unyielding, the pressure in his chest made him tense and shake. Was he still inside the device? Had he ever left? His hands shook, and he tried to look around, get a bearing. All he could see was lightning, bolts of electricity cross-crossing in his vision. He had to get up, get out of the chair.

"Leon!"

"Ashley?" He croaked.

"No, sugar, it's me." Toby had lowered him flat on the bed and interlaced their fingers, his face twisted in concern. Leon stared up at him, willing himself to remember where he was, who was touching him.

"Where are my clothes?" He finally asked, stalling.

"They're…" Toby glanced behind him. "Kind of all over the place."

"What?" He moved to sit up, eyes darting upwards when he was stopped and gently pushed back against the sheets.

"Hang on, do you know who I am? Do you know what year it is?"

"It's…" Leon frowned. "It's 2005."

"You're guessing."

"You're… you're Toby."

"That's right." Toby squeezed his hand gently. "Do you know more than that, or just my name?"

"Um…" Leon stared at the face in front of him, tracing soft features with his eyes. "We're dating?"

"Good." Toby seemed to think for a moment, going quiet. "We were going to get you into the bath to try and get your temperature down, do you still want to do that?"

"We were?"

"Yes. The water's ready." Toby squeezed his hand again. "I'll help you walk, if you'd like."

"Y- Yeah." Leon wrapped his arms around strong shoulders, letting himself be brought to his feet. He felt his knees weaken beneath him, and struggled to hold on as Toby shifted his arms.

"Do you want me to carry you?" He asked, turning his head. Their noses nearly brushed, and Leon leaned closer instinctively, bumping their foreheads together. He nodded, bringing his hand up to touch soft brown hair. Toby let him, not flinching or pushing him away.  
"You don't remember anything, do you?" He asked softly.

"I know I trust you." Leon told him, swaying from where his feet still touched the floor. He went limp when Toby hooked an arm under his knees, supporting his full weight. "I trust you." He repeated, voice weak. Toby stopped for a moment, looking incredibly pained. He blinked, then looked away and kept walking, bringing Leon into the bathroom.

"Just relax, alright?" He said. "I'm gonna put you in the water." Toby was gentle as he lowered Leon into the tub. The water was lukewarm, but even the faint cold felt amazing on feverish skin.

"Don't leave. Promise me you won't leave." Leon reached over blindly, his eyes drifting shut.

"I'm not leaving."

His hand was caught between warm fingers, and he felt soft kisses make their way across his knuckles.  
"You said you'd stay, that we'd be partners, but you left." He said.

"What? Sugar, I'm right here."

"I told you we could fix it!" Leon sobbed suddenly, opening his eyes to stare at Toby. "I told you they could fix your arm but you _left!_ You left me all alone, and I had… I had nothing, Jack!"

"Jack?" Toby held up his hands slowly. "Leon, calm down, it's okay."

"No!" He clawed at the linoleum of the tub surround, as if trying to pry himself upwards.

"Leon!" Toby hissed, he cursed before climbing halfway into the tub, pinning Leon's arms between them. "Hey, look at me." He whispered.

"Jack, you said… you promised. You promised you'd watch my back."

"Sugar, it's alright. I've got you." Toby resigned himself to soaking his clothes, lying in the tub so he could hold Leon tight against his chest. He ran his hands over trembling skin as he tried to soothe the painful sobs that muffled themselves in his shirt.

"Jack?" Leon's voice cracked, the hard "K" sound nearly silent.

"No, Jack's not here. It's me, it's Toby."

"Toby."

"Yeah, that's right. It's okay, you're safe."

"Toby. Toby." Leon said his name over and over, sounding disturbingly like a prayer or a plea for help. He was lost in a dark spiral, his vision spotted with ink and blood, mottled, muted colors that ran together until the white of the bathroom was completely overtaken. He was starving, for oxygen, for food, for meat. Something, anything.

* * *

Toby ran his thumb gently over the sharp line of Leon's jaw. The man had passed out, and if he hadn't been so worryingly fever-flushed, the reprieve from his gut-wrenching cries would've been welcome. Instead, Toby clung to him, unwilling to let him go. It was his fault, his doing. He was the reason that Leon was in so much pain.  
"I'm so sorry." He whispered, feeling his eyes sting with tears of his own. "I'm so sorry, sugar, this never should've… you never should've been a part of this." He pressed a string of kisses against too-warm skin. "You would've been better off if we'd never met. I should've stayed away, I should've taken responsibility and let Simmons use me instead. I should've…" He clenched his mouth shut. There was no use in apologizing if Leon couldn't hear it.  
Toby stayed in the tub with him for a few more minutes before carefully extracting himself. He towelled off before lifting Leon out of the water. He was more difficult to carry while completely unconscious, and the phrase "slippery when wet" sat on the edge of Toby's tongue.

"Let's get you covered up before the cavalry arrives." He said, making sure to pick up the clothes strewn around the room. Finding new ones, he made quick work of dressing them both. Simmons would come with his men to pick them up any minute now, and he spent their last bit of freedom tidying up Leon's apartment and writing him a note. It was a longshot, but he had to get the words out where they would be seen. He needed Leon to know his feelings, to know that he had never been malicious. Even if neither of them survived, it would give whoever searched for them a clear roadmap of what had happened. Just as he heard a rap on the door, he finished, signing his name carefully. The letter was tucked beneath Leon's pillow, just out of sight. Toby squared his shoulders as he walked, and managed to look passive as he opened the door.

"Is he out, or do we need to sedate him?" Simmons asked.

"He's out." Toby stepped aside, letting him in. Two armed guards followed, heading for the bedroom. It took them seconds to carry Leon out to the waiting van, and seconds more to start it up and drive away.

"Excellent work." Simmons said idly, picking at his fingernails.

It took effort to swallow down bile and anger, but Toby managed it. Rebellion would have to wait. He needed a plan, and he needed time. He could still fix this.


	4. Schadenfreude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Schadenfreude- pleasure derived from another's misfortune
> 
> This chapter's a little shorter, but we're starting to get to the juicy bits c:
> 
> The art for this chapter was done by @eiruis_exe on twitter!

Warm, wet suction moved across his chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Hot breath fanned over his skin, all the warning he got before a tongue dragged over his sternum. Wet and messy, more kisses coated his collar and moved towards his neck. They felt amazing, sending blood coursing southward. The barest hint of teeth nipped at his jaw, teasing him. A soft groan escaped him, sounding fuzzy and hollow in his own ears. Fake. Fleeting. The kisses became bites very suddenly, sinking in deeper than was comfortable. He thrashed, trying to bring his arms up and shove the mouth away. What had previously been languid laziness had become numb terror. There was no air in his lungs to scream, heavy weight on his chest preventing him from drawing breath. Warmth flooded his throat, his skin wet with tears and blood. Gnawing, ceaseless teeth dug through and shredded his vocal chords, vibrating pitifully as they were disturbed. Not even a death rattle made it past the gaping hole where his larynx used to be.

"No!" Leon jerked forward, writhing in place He couldn't move, limbs awake but trapped. "No, get it off-" He tried again, groaning when his body slammed back against uncomfortable sheets. Sheets? Leon turned his head, finally focusing his gaze. He was in a hospital bed, and tough restraints held him down against the firm mattress. Beyond that, he could see an expanse of concrete, some sort of warehouse bay. He was alone, as far as he could tell. Precious few lights illuminated the space, leaving gaps of shadow, where anything could be hiding. His skin crawled.

"Good to see you awake, Agent Kennedy."

"Simmons?" He tried to turn his head, flinching when a hand stilled him. It cupped his chin, stroking his cheek with alarming gentleness.

"Yes. You passed out again, and Toby gave me a call."

"Where- where is he?" Leon tried to look around again, wincing when his jaw was squeezed.

"It's finally working, see?" Simmons' gaze traveled slowly over pale skin, examining faint blue veins and fading bruises. "No more blisters. Your DNA has caught up with the virus."

"What are you talking about? Where's Toby?" Leon tried to pull his head away, whimpering when Simmons shoved him back against the bed and held him there. Cold fingertips brushed the collar of his scrubs aside, tracing the line of his sternum.

"I've been drugging you, microdosing you with one of The Family's new inventions. We call it the K-Virus." Simmons explained. "It's a distant relative of the plaga used by the Los Illuminados cult."

"I'm sure there are some fun discrepancies that you're about to share with me." Leon tugged on his bound wrists. He didn't like the way Simmons was touching him, didn't like being tied down, and didn't like being alone with the creepy bastard. "Where's Toby?"

"There are. But look at you, you're up to four syllable words. You must be feeling better."

"Fuck you."

"As the virus continues to progress, you'll feel more in control. You'll get stronger, more alert. Really, you should be thanking me- this is a gift. And I didn't even have to kill you to give it to you." Simmons told him, spreading his hand over Leon's chest, beneath the pale scrubs he was dressed in. "You'll understand when it fully develops. I've refined the plaga's ability to control its host, made it more personal, more predictable. I even added a safety switch, just because I know how much of a pain in the ass you are."

"A safety switch?" Leon felt a spike of panic travel up his spine.

"Yes. Once the virus has grown inside you, it will respond to certain chemical responses in your brain- certain stimuli. For example, a word or phrase could cause you to become completely submissive and do whatever I tell you. Isn't that fun?"

"You're sick." Leon tried to pull away for the umpteenth time, attempting to dislodge the hand on his chest. Pain started beneath his ribs, dull but threatening. It made him stiffen, familiarity leaving his heart racing.

"Cousins." Simmons said, as if reading his mind. "I'm sure you haven't forgotten how the plaga tore through you, how it fed on your body and twisted between your guts. This new strain- new breed, if you will- is similar. Slower, but no less effective."

"Get off of me." Leon said, not trusting anything else to come out in a steady voice. "Where's Toby? What did you do to him?"

"Do to him?" Simmons removed his hand, fingers lingering to tickle soft skin. "Why, nothing. He's perfectly fine."

"Bullshit! I swear to god, if you hurt him I'll-"

"Hurt him?" Simmons shook his head. "Why would I do that? He works for me."

"Yeah, and so do I, you-"

"No." Covering Leon's squawking mouth, he leaned in. "He helped me reel you in. Without him, I never would've been able to infect you."

"Mm!" Leon protested as best he could.

"I know you don't believe me." Simmons said. "So, I'll let him explain it." He stepped away, pulling out his phone.

"You sick son of a bitch, I'll-"

"Toby?" Simmons smiled when Leon went silent. "Yes, come on in." He put the device away, crossing his arms in front of his chest. A bay door behind him creaked and groaned as it opened. Dressed in scrubs similar to Leon's, Toby ducked under.

"Leon!" He tried to run towards the bed, but Simmons stopped him, grabbing him around the waist and squeezing his throat. Toby fought with him, throwing elbows, but the security advisor only put more pressure on his airway.

"Stop! Stop- Simmons!" Leon tugged on his restraints. "Toby, please, don't struggle, it's okay. Don't struggle." He begged.

"See?" Simmons hissed. "He still loves you. Poor, misguided soul."

"Shut _up!_ " Toby snarled, twisting his whole body. He shoved Simmons away, stumbling over to the bed.

"Toby-" Leon managed to grab onto his wrist, squeezing tightly. "Toby, he said you helped him." His voice shook. "That you helped him drug me." Looking up, he watched Toby's face mix between guilt and anger.

"Tell him." Simmons said. "Tell him how you did it."

"Leon…" Toby started. He swallowed, looking down. "I'm sorry."

"But…" Leon stared up at him, shocked. "You said- you said you loved me. Toby, you-"

"I do." Toby cut him off. "I do love you. When I told you about the DSO providing medication for me, I wasn't- wasn't lying. I'm so sorry, it's no excuse, I should've-"

"Tobias." Simmons snapped. "Tell him."

"He- Simmons- he gave me microdoses of the virus, in a syringe, and- and I would put it in your food." Toby rubbed his face. He was crying, Leon realized. "That's why you felt so sick. Why you were so hungry. Your body was mutating, it started weeks ago. Once um- once we went on our date, I had second thoughts. I tried to stop it."

"Toby is infected with his own strain." Simmons cut in. "His virus is a hybrid, and has both dominant and submissive traits. On the food chain, he's beneath me, but far above you. He tried to stop your mutation by using his control of the parasite."

"That's why it felt like it got better whenever I was around." Toby said quietly. Leon stared up at him, eyes wide.

"What about the hospital?" He asked.

"Simmons found out that I was protecting you, and he got angry. He upped the dose-"

"Quadrupled it, to be exact." Simmons picked at his fingernails with a bored expression.

"-So that I wouldn't be able to stop the mutation. That's why it hurt you so bad and hit so fast." Toby wiped his eyes again, clenching his jaw. "The doctor we went to was one of Simmons' employees. He lied about the tests and x-rays, and sent you back home. From then on, things just got worse, and I couldn't-" He bit his lip, looking away.

"Toby." Leon said softly. "Toby, look at me."

"I couldn't stop it." He said, finally making eye contact. Leon blinked up at him, at a loss for words.

"You… You drugged me." He whispered. Toby looked away again, tensing up.

"Yes."

"I…" Leon squeezed his hand. "Why?"

"I didn't have a choice." Toby looked back up at him. "I didn't- I wasn't supposed to get so close to you, but- but Simmons wanted cameras in your apartment and-"

"What?" Leon looked between them. "So you never really…?"

"No! It was real, I swear." Toby insisted.

"Then why? Why did you help him?"

"Because of my plaga. If he stops giving me the medication, I'll… I'll turn into something horrible. I can't control it like he can, I'll become a monster." He sighed. "So I… I did it to save my own ass, and I'm sorry."

"You planned this." Leon turned on Simmons. "You _bastard!_ "

"What can I say?" Simmons held out his arms. "I knew what cards were on the table." He tugged on Toby's shirt, grabbing his arm and dragging him away from Leon. "I think that's enough socializing, don't you?"

"No!" Leon tried to sit up, fighting the belts around his arms and legs. "No, Simmons! Stop!" He watched as Toby fought back, trying to pull away and free himself. The further away they got, the more his heart sank. "Simmons!" He yelled. "Let him go!"

"You _fucker!_ " Toby was cursing and swearing as they fought. Abruptly, he doubled over, shielding his stomach. Simmons shoved him to the ground, reeling back and kicking him in the chest.

" _No!_ " Leon yelled out, horrified. His heart hammered against his ribs, time slowing as he watched another kick make contact with Toby's face. Simmons stepped back, breathing heavily.

"After what he did, you still care for him?" He asked, chuckling. "You really are a fool. Or is it just so lonely in your alcohol-soaked skull that you have to cling to anyone who shows you kindness?"

"Shut up!"

"No." Simmons took out his phone, turning away. "He's down." He spoke into it. "Come in and get him."

"Don't-" Leon panicked when two armored guards entered the warehouse. They were emotionless as they approached, one keeping his weapon trained on Toby as they pulled him to his feet.  
"Stop! Leave him alone!" Leon struggled uselessly on the bed, tears of frustration leaking out of the corner of his eye. There was a red mark on Toby's face, blood pooling in the corner of his mouth. More than likely, he'd bitten his tongue when Simmons hit him. He looked dazed, his eyes glassy and unfocused.  
"Toby?" Leon called. His breath caught in his throat when their eyes met.

"Nhh- Guh!" Toby wrenched himself away from the guards, falling to his knees. Desperation was plain on his face, his eyes locked onto Leon's.

" _No!_ " Leon barely had time to scream as he watched the guard's baton crackle, coming down between Toby's shoulder blades. He yelled in frustration, rubbing his wrists raw on the leather cuffs. Simmons stepped around the guards, idly watching them restrain his prisoner.

"It's a shame, you know." He ran his hand through Leon's hair, brushing his bangs away from his face. "Toby was close to being set free. Of course, he would've mutated sooner or later, I can't just let him leave and spill all my secrets. However, I'm beginning to think that he'll become a permanent resident. His connection to you is too strong, you've… corrupted him, as it were."

"You're fucking _sick!_ " Leon pulled away. "Let him stay, please. I just want to be with him."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Simmons smiled at him, though his expression held no sincerity. "He will stay here, in his own cell, just as you will, until I can reshape him into a perfect little soldier. Guards." He snapped his fingers. They hauled Toby back towards the door, being less than gentle. Leon itched to run over and stop them, his fingers twitching against the sheets. There was an uncomfortable ache in his chest, and he couldn't tell if it was the plaga or if Pandora's box of emotions was buried inside him. As the door closed and he lost sight of them, hard pressure built into his throat, forcing him to swallow around it to keep it at bay.

"I'll-" He swallowed again. "I'll do whatever you want, just… just don't hurt him."


	5. Fuchsteufelswild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuchsteufelswild- "hopping mad"
> 
> WARNING: this chapter contains explicit scenes of animal abuse (specifically, a character kills + eats a rabbit)  
> If this will negatively impact you, I strongly suggest that you skip this chapter.
> 
> The art for this chapter was done by @cutebaratitties on twitter!

By the third day, after hours spent alone and confined, the weight of the situation was beginning to feel like a cement veil, laid overtop him. Leon pulled on the cuffs for the millionth time, desperate to get up and move, to have some control over himself. He could feel it- the virus- like the slow creep of ants under and across his skin. Cramps would manifest and then disappear as quick as they had come. He was almost grateful for the restraints; they kept him from ripping the scrubs away to check for roiling tendrils around his stomach. He supposed it could have been from hunger, the way his stomach rumbled was far from quiet. The urge to eat- not a craving for food, but an _urge_ \- was what scared him the most. He prayed that it wasn't heralding his descent in cannibalism, but it certainly seemed likely.  
There were other symptoms- headaches, ringing in his ears, nausea, dizziness- and not a damn thing he could do about it. Simmons came in to check on him every few hours, taking his vitals, asking him if he needed water. The worst part was when the gross, _gross_ man helped him use the bathroom. There was hardly any decency afforded to you while strapped down to a table, but Leon had quickly learned that if he behaved, he was allowed to do it himself.  
Behaving meant staying still when being examined- groped. He refused to call it anything else. Simmons would slide unnervingly cold hands down his sides, settle on his hips and _squeeze_ before heading up to his chest. He was pinched and molested there, as well, his pecs taking most of the abuse. For some reason- and though Leon didn't know what it was, he was grateful for it- Simmons refused to go any further. Maybe it was the sight of Toby's fading marks on his collar, doting his skin. Or the tremble in his limbs whenever he was touched, the way his teeth chattered. It was cold, it was always cold now. His body felt weaker when it froze, more brittle, like he'd shatter if someone struck him too hard. Even worse, when he managed to get warm again, the hunger was always eager to make itself known. It was a horrible cycle to be stuck in, and Leon thought he was beginning to lose it.

* * *

The next time Simmons came to check on him, he had a terrifying smile on his face.  
"I've decided to let you run free." He said, as if he was talking about a dog and not a human. "Inside the warehouse, of course. I've even decided to let you have something to eat."

Leon's attention snapped to him.

"The only caveat is that you have to catch your breakfast, I won't be making it easy on you." Simmons smirked, his eyes dangerously wild. Deftly, he unbuckled the strap on Leon's right wrist before making his exit, the bay door sealing behind him. Another door, smaller, no bigger than a dinner plate, opened beside it. At first, Leon had assumed it was a breaker panel, but as it opened, he saw something move on the other side. He was instantly on alert, hurrying to unbuckle the rest of the restraints and get on his feet. That proved easier said than done, and his knees buckled when he tried to put weight on them. It would take time to regain his mobility.  
Gradually, as he leaned against the bed and willed his body to listen to him, things began to enter through the door. At first, Leon couldn't believe what he was seeing. Rabbits. At least fifty of them, making their way onto the open floor of the warehouse.

"What… the fuck?" He watched them begin to explore, staying close to the walls. They were sniffing everything, nibbling at loose insulation. His hands shook with frustration as it began to add up.  
"Simmons, you sick bastard." He touched his stomach, feeling how tight the skin was. The plaga was boosting his metabolism well beyond practical levels. He didn't want to stoop this low. One of the rabbits got close, and he wrinkled his nose. _God,_ he could smell them. He could smell the _meat_ on them. It made his mouth water and his diaphragm twist. He wanted so badly to give in and chase after them.

And then what?  
He didn't have a weapon, he didn't have so much as a match. Was he going to just eat it raw, like an animal, like one of the infec-

He covered his mouth, trying to stave off nausea. The more he thought about it, the more his body warred. He needed to eat, or the plaga was going to kill him.  
"Fuck." He cussed. " _Damn it!_ " Leon slammed his hand onto the mattress. He refused to play Simmons' games.

* * *

The morning after the rabbits had been released, he awoke shivering, all his body heat stolen by the hard concrete floor. He refused to sleep on the bed, terrified of being tied down again. The hunger was worse, the scent was worse. He hated that he could sense where they were, feel the vibration of their movements.  
The next day was torture. He couldn't stop trembling, couldn't shake the hunger pangs that ripped through him. The rabbits smelled so good.

"Can I tell you something?"  
Simmons' voice came through a speaker, filtered and echoey.  
"These rabbits, they're actually Snowshoe hares." He paused. "What's special about them, you ask? Well, they were previously thought to be herbivores, until a scientist placed some of their carcasses beside trail cams. He was trying to catch the lynx on camera, see how it fed, but instead, he found out that these sweet little Easter bunnies are cannibals."

"What?" Leon sat up, making suspicious eye contact with the rabbit closest to him. It merely wiggled its nose.

"Oh, yes. They'll even eat lynx meat, if pressed. It makes me wonder, when they've begun to eat each other, will that be when you break down? Or will it be when they find out that _you_ taste just as sweet?"

"Shut up!" Leon snapped. "I don't know what you want me to do, I don't- I can't- I won't be able to catch them."

"You're smart, you'll figure it out."

"No!" He tugged on his hair, curling into the fetal position. He didn't want this, he wanted to go home. "Where's Toby?" He called out. Anything, anything to anchor him before he completely lost it. No response was given, and he let the silence grow and grow until it felt like a stifling cloud.

Something had to break.

He made it two days.

By that point, the plaga was furious. It was starved, crazed from hunger. Leon shuddered and twitched, drenched in sweat despite the cold of the room. He needed to eat, he needed his strength back.  
By now, the rabbits were used to him. After they'd begun to cuddle up to him, he had resigned himself to sleeping on the bed. There was no way he'd let them pile on top of him. Not when he knew what they were capable of. Now, they milled about, sniffing and nibbling on whatever they could reach. They were sweet little things, with big feet and twitching tails. Their soft, white fur only made them more appealing. Leon unfolded himself from the bed, letting his bare feet hit the floor. On unsteady legs, he wobbled towards the closest one. It stared him down, ears twitching, before taking off. He dove after it, grunting in pain when he hit the ground. They were fast. Leon got up, zeroing in on another rabbit. He stayed on his feet this time, chasing it into a group before managing to snatch one that stumbled over its kin.

"Oh god." He cussed when it struggled, and on impulse, twisted his arms. Its neck broke with a sick snap, and Leon sunk to his knees, holding the animal close. "Oh fuck, oh fuck." He set it down carefully, running his hands over his face to try and calm himself down. The part of his brain that was weak to the plaga, that gave in so easily, was delighted that he'd secured a meal. The rest of him was horrified.  
How easy had it been for him to snatch the rabbit up and snap its neck? It was like second nature. Frustrated, the plaga squeezed his stomach, making its impatience known. Still trembling, always trembling, Leon rolled the poor creature onto its back. He closed his eyes before biting into it, sobbing at the grotesque noises the muscle and blood made. Noises he had heard before. It was still warm, and somehow that was worse. He spat out fur, eyes widening at the amount of blood on the floor. The meat inside his mouth was wet and tender, sliding down his throat easily. If he kept his eyes closed, if he just didn't think about it…

One wasn't enough. He wanted more. Leon stared at the blood staining his scrubs. He was sure there was more on his face- he could feel it drying and settling on his skin. It was everywhere. The floor, his hands, the limp pile of half-chewed fur and bone lying in front of him. Disgust overtook him, and he pulled his shirt over his head, using it to wipe away the viscera on his hands and face. As an afterthought, he draped the clothing over the rabbit's corpse. If he hadn't already been slotted for hell, he was definitely going there now.  
The plaga was delighted, the pressure on his stomach eased. It was feasting on the raw meat he had ingested, on the organs and muscle that he'd forced past his gag reflex. Was this what he was going to become? Would he kill without hesitation, would he bite into his prey and savor the feeling? Would he eventually graduate from rabbits to humans? Was that Simmons' plan? Leon tried to picture it, the same warmth and rush of blood in his mouth, but from a human body. His stomach turned, and he scrambled backwards, clawing at the cement floor as he emptied what little meat he'd eaten into a disgusting pile of viscera and bile. He couldn't, he couldn't do it. Tears streamed down his face. He'd rather die than bite into a human like that. The plaga stirred angrily, upset that its meal was disrupted. It thrashed and wriggled, and the horrible feeling of his abdominal cavity being rearranged made Leon throw up again.

"Shit." He crawled away, curling up on his side with his back to the carnage. He needed to play along with Simmons' plan until he found a way to escape, or until someone came to rescue him. He knew that. He had to keep going, for Toby, if not for anyone else. He wanted desperately to get them both out of this. Seeing him so despondent, hearing his confession… it had sent chills up and down his spine. He'd felt betrayed, but knew better than to direct his anger at another victim. He knew what it was like to be puppeteered. Even if he wanted to, he didn't think he could blame Toby. Being afraid of turning into a monster, being afraid of dying, that he could sympathize with. The knowledge that Toby had slowed the plaga's growth in an attempt to shield him from the pain really struck a chord. He had risked Simmons' wrath in order to protect him, even if he'd only managed to buy them some time. When Leon weighed the hurt against all the love he'd felt for Toby, all the love he'd been given in return, it only made him angry. Angry at Simmons, for pitting them against each other, angry at Benford, for letting Simmons get away with so much. Angry at himself, for not taking his symptoms more seriously.

Noise startled him from his thoughts, making him roll over to investigate. A stab of panic went through him when he saw that some of the other rabbits had gathered around the corpse, nibbling and pulling at his shirt until it was out of the way. They were eating the dead flesh, staining their pristine fur with blood.  
"Oh, god." He was shaking again, horrified. It was true, they were omnivores. There were so many of them, if they did decide to try and eat him, he'd never be able to fend them off and-

Stop. Stop stop stop. He curled into a ball, tugging on his hair. They wouldn't, they'd eat each other first, that's what Simmons had said. He wasn't in any danger, not from them. Between gasping breaths, he managed to calm himself down, soothing the panic building up in his chest. If he just ignored them, they'd go away. On unsteady limbs, he climbed back into bed, covering his ears to block out the chewing.

"How long do you think you can hold out?" Simmons' voice was grating, irritating every nerve. "You're already hungry, I can tell. You can't escape it."

"Shut up." Leon curled deeper into the linens, hoping he could make himself disappear.

"What if I told you it could be easier? It would be neater, you wouldn't have to get so messy. Would that make it better for you? You wouldn't have to bite into them, you could pick and choose what pieces to eat."

"You're lying. You won't give me a weapon." Leon shook his head.

"I don't have to." The speaker crackled. "Use your head, Leon. Did you think I'd infect you with a virus and _not_ put in a mutation?" He laughed. "I told you that your plaga is a cousin of the one you were infected with in Spain, but I didn't tell you what creature the samples were harvested from."

"...What?" Leon sat up, staring at where he guessed the hidden camera was.

"I was always fascinated by the novistadors, it's a shame you wiped them out. Thankfully, even a corpse can be used for data retrieval. I think you'll find that if you really try, you can emulate some of their finer points. Specifically, their claws."

"The novis-" Leon clenched his fists. The horrid, flying creatures that had assaulted him while he'd been trying to find Ashley. The buzzing of their wings, the feel of their claws biting into his skin, it was all too raw. "I hate you." He gasped out. "Even if I could, there's no way in _hell_ that I'll willingly turn myself into a monster. You're _sick!_ "

"If you do it, I'll let you see Toby." Simmons bargained.

"I don't believe you."

"That's fine, but this is probably your only chance to ever touch him again."

Leon wrapped his arms around himself, chewing on his nail as he considered it. More than likely, it was just a rouse. But, if Simmons wasn't lying, and he passed up the opportunity, he'd never forgive himself.  
"Fine." He rushed out. "What- how- how do I do it?"

"The claws will come from extra cartilage and bone that the plaga has built up inside your arms, you're going to have to get used to controlling it. Try just flexing your arms."

"God, I hate you." Leon muttered under his breath. He curled his right hand into a fist, feeling tension travel up his arm. Nothing happened, but he felt unnatural structures shift inside him. It made his skin crawl.  
"Ugh." He tried again, and an ominous crack sounded from somewhere near his wrist. It took a few tries, but eventually, shooting pain began just shy of his knuckles, and the skin tented over dark masses beneath the surface. Leon grit his teeth before flexing his muscles again. To his horror, three long, keratinous spikes shot out of his hand. They were wickedly sharp and jointed, just as the novistadors' had been. His human hand was dwarfed by them, nearly useless in comparison.

"Good. Now do the other." Simmons encouraged.

"N- no- what- what if they don't go away?" Leon continued to stare, horrified at his own body.

"They will. You can control your mutations the same way that I control mine."

"No. No, I won't-"

"Kalmia." Simmons said sharply. Leon screamed when the claws on his left hand burst through the skin. There was nothing subtle about it, no slow progression as there had been with the other arm. The talons simply forced their way out, flexing along with his struggles.

" _What did you do?_ " He yelled, feeling another panic attack creep up on him.

"Remember the safety switch I told you about?" Simmons asked. Even through the speaker, Leon could hear the smirk in his voice. "I was hoping that I wouldn't have to use it so soon, but… you've always been good at making things difficult."

"Oh god." Leon flexed both sets of claws in tandem, watching them stretch and curl.

"Now, I know you're hungry. You have a distinct advantage now."

"I'm going to kill you." Leon said, slowly getting down from the bed. He didn't dare look at what remained of his first meal. The rabbits had all been frightened by his screams, and were cowering in the corners of the warehouse. He moved slowly towards the closest group, continuously testing the mobility of his claws. One of the hares made a break for it, and he swiped at it, unsure of himself. He made contact, and with minimal effort, sliced its head clean off.  
"Oh my god." Leon watched the body bleed.

"That's much easier than snapping its neck, isn't it?" Simmons asked. "Cut it up, get to the meat, you must be starving."

He was. Leon walked over, kneeling beside the corpse. Carefully, he used the claws to peel it apart. He didn't know much about skinning, much less taking apart something so small, but he did his best. As much as he loathed to admit it, using the claws was much easier. He could afford to be more picky with what he was eating, and kept most of the blood off of his body. After a while, instinct took over, and before he could stop himself, he was licking his claws clean. The plaga was sated, grateful for the raw meat, and showed its appreciation with warmth. It would need to feed again soon, but for now, it was happy.

"Good." Simmons' voice startled him, and he flinched away from the mess he'd made. "Putting them away takes time, you have to relax and let them retract naturally. If you can't do it, go to sleep, and they should be gone when you wake up."

"You promised that I could see Toby." Leon said. He tried vainly to relax himself. He didn't want to be seen like this.

"In a few days, you may. I'm afraid he's in the middle of some errands for me, and he won't be back until at least next week. But, you have my word."

"Bastard." Leon hissed. He sat down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He had wondered why Simmons wasn't coming in person to see him anymore, but his caution was justified after all. No doubt that even with his C-Virus armor, he could still take damage from Leon's new claws. He was a danger now. A liability. That thought instilled a little bit of hope inside him. If he was strong enough to damage Simmons, then maybe he was strong enough to fight his way out of the warehouse. It would take some planning, he had no idea what was beyond the bay door, or how the facility was laid out. But Toby did. He watched his claws twitch, responding to the emotions built up inside him. If he could find a way to talk to him without Simmons listening in, he could plan a way out. Until then, he'd just have to behave, and play nice. It wasn't a pleasant thought, but he'd licked boots before, and he could do it again.

After all, what other choice did he have?


	6. Erklärungsnot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erklärungsnot- a situation in which you are forced to quickly explain yourself

"Toby?" Leon sat up, jumping off the bed. The sound of the door opening had awoken him from a cat nap, and he'd been certain his eyes were playing tricks. He broke into a run, slamming into Toby's chest. 

"Oof!"

"Are you okay? Where did he hit you? Let me see." He ran his fingers over faint bruising.

"I'm okay." Toby pulled him close, rubbing his back gently. "What about you, did he hurt you? I'm sorry, I s-"

"Stop. Stop." Leon shook his head. "Just… It's alright, I don't… I'm not angry about what happened." He sighed. "It's Simmons' fault, not yours."

"I know, but-"

"Tobes." Leon cupped Toby's cheeks in his hands. "I love you." He leaned in close, lowering his voice to a whisper. "If we get out of here, you can make it up to me with some really good take-out, whiskey, and sex." 

"Leon-"

"Mm." Leon kissed him. "Therapy later, escaping now." He whispered. Toby sighed.

"Okay." He sat down on the bed, staying quiet as Leon climbed into his lap. "It's not a very big facility." He said. "There's a hallway out there, with another holding cell, offices, and a couple other rooms that I haven't been in. This is the main building, and there are two out buildings on the campus. One is a barracks for the guards- there's only one platoon stationed here, which is good for us. I think there's about 25 of 'em."

"What does the perimeter look like?" Leon asked. He shivered, nestling closer to Toby's chest.

"Well, I know there's barbed wire fencing, but that's about it, I don't get to see much when they put me in the truck."

"Truck?"

"Yeah, there's some army vehicles out there. I don't know how he got his hands on them, but… the guards definitely aren't military."

"Neo-Umbrella?" 

"I don't think so. They talk and act more like mercenaries." Toby sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not gonna be easy, sugar." 

"I know, but-" Leon went quiet as the door opened. Simmons stormed in, followed by four of his men. As they marched closer, Toby stood up, pushing Leon behind him. 

"You said-" He began.

"Do you think I'm _stupid?_ " Simmons spat. He gestured, and the guards came forward, grabbing Toby by the arms. 

"Hey!" He fought back, recoiling when he was struck across the face. The men forced him down onto the floor, one stepping on his neck to keep him in place.

"No!" Leon yelled. One of the guards broke away, grabbing him around the waist and hauling him backwards. Simmons took a pistol from one of his men and knelt down, pressing the muzzle to Toby's head.  
" _No!_ " Leon felt his voice pitch up in his throat. "Simmons, wait, don't, I'll do anything. Don't hurt him, I'll do whatever you want, just-"

"Anything?" Simmons turned towards him.

"Anything." Leon nodded.

"Hm." After a moment of consideration, Simmons reeled his arm back, pistol whipping Toby.

"Stop!" Leon begged. He watched in horror as another strike cracked something in Toby's nose. Blood coated his upper lip within seconds, staining his teeth. When Simmons reeled back again, something inside of Leon snapped. With a scream, he sunk his claws into the guard holding him, tearing through body armor like paper. Another merc tried to stop him, only to be met with the same fate.

"Kalmia!" Simmons shouted. Leon froze, twitching as he fought the mental block keeping him in place. Every muscle was posed to lunge at Simmons and rend him limb from limb. He was furious, hot blood coursing through him.   
"Good." Simmons put the gun away, coming closer to tuck Leon's bangs behind his ears. "That felt good, didn't it?" He asked. "Hurting them."

"Fuck you." Leon felt his whole body tremble.

"That's all I want from you, Agent Kennedy. I wanted to make you stronger, faster. If you'll let me, my virus has one more gift for you, to help you in combat."

"What?"

"Novistadors." Simmons said slowly. "You have wings, my dear." He circled Leon, touching his bare back. "We have to… draw them out. They're mostly vestigial, but they'll make jumping easier, slow you down if you fall. You can't _fly_ , as that would be asking for trouble, but I think you'll find them very useful."

"W-Wings?" Leon stared in shock. "What are you-" He stopped short. "I don't care. Let me go to him." He nodded his head towards Toby. Simmons huffed in amusement.

"He's unconscious." He said. "Right now, the best you can do for him is listen to me. I want to see if the wings truly work. If they do, I'd like to do a field test. If you agree to my terms and don't cause any trouble, I'll have Agent Cardoso tended to and put on leave so you two can fraternize more often."

"I don't believe you." 

"I've kept my word thus far, haven't I?" Simmons smirked. He took a slow lap around Toby's body. "I could always leave him for the rabbits. You know how they like the smell of blood." 

"Fine, I'll do it." Leon snapped. 

"Good. I'm going to release you, but you'll stay where you are." Simmons turned to the mercs. "Take Agent Cardoso to the infirmary, please." He watched them heft the deadweight between them before heading for the door. "Now," His attention turned back to their deal. "Kalmia." As soon as he spoke, all of Leon's muscles began to respond again. He let out an undignified yelp as he tumbled to the ground.

"Shit!"

"This is going to hurt. A lot." Simmons told him, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Kalmia!"

"No-" Leon cut himself off, eyes going wide. Something was moving beneath the skin of his back, edging towards the surface. His shoulder blades flexed and warped, bringing tears to his eyes. There was pain- of course there was pain- but the grating and pulling and the _wrongness_ of how his muscles were moving scared him more than the agony of his torn skin. Like daggers cutting through parchment, strange shapes pierced through him, creaking as they continued to twist and grow outside of his body. He screamed- finally, his diaphragm had decided to listen to him- and slammed his hands against the floor.  
"Stop it! Make it stop!" He cried.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Simmons knelt beside Leon, stroking his hair. "The first mutation is always the most painful. After today, it will be much easier to deploy your wings."

"That's not… comforting." Leon hissed. He shuddered when something between his shoulder blades gave a sinewy pop, opening another raw wound. 

"There." Simmons said. "Like a butterfly from its chrysalis." 

"Fuck off." Leon winced as the wings twitched and fluttered, the last of his new, horrid anatomy shaking itself loose. He scraped his claws against the floor in frustration, leaving scratches in the concrete. He wanted this to stop, he wanted to go home, he wanted _Toby_.

"Do you like them?" Simmons whispered. Leon grit his teeth before peering over his shoulder. The wings were translucent and fragile-looking, perched on his back unnaturally. They looked just like the novistadors', brown and white Rorschach patterns along their edges. From what he could see, the meat of them was identical as well, see through and obviously insect-like. There was nothing beautiful about them. They were a hideous reminder of his time in Spain, of how he'd nearly lost his life fighting off hordes of flying nightmares. The buzzing, the zip of their bodies through the air- those were sounds he'd never forget. 

"I hate them." He said quietly. Simmons ignored the breakdown he was having, moving around and examining him with a clinical eye. 

"Try and move them."

"No." Leon closed his eyes. His stomach rolled and gurgled, upset by the stress he was under. 

"No?" Simmons knelt down beside him. "Are you forgetting what's at stake here? I could always have Agent Cardoso taken out back and put down like the _dog_ he is, if that's what you-"

"Stop!" Leon scratched at the concrete again. He took a few deep breaths before shifting his back. The wings fluttered gently, and a new wave of revulsion shot through him. 

"Good. Now, let's see if you can control them while jumping."

"Are you nuts?" Leon stood up on shaky legs. "They feel like they'll rip off if someone touches them, there's no way they'll support my-"

"Are you going to try or not?" Simmons asked darkly.

"Fine." 

"Good. Take a running jump, and use them to keep yourself in the air for as long as possible."

"This is crazy." Leon calmed himself down, one hand pressed to his heart. It felt ready to explode. He compartmentalized that worry for later, focusing on the current task. He was surprised that his muscles hadn't deteriorated much, even though he'd been nearly bedridden for the last week. He still felt strong, was still able to neatly propel himself into the air. It didn't register that he was supposed to use the wings until he landed, his brain too caught up in the fog of being able to run once more.

"Disappointing." Simmons said.

"No, wait, let me try again." He insisted. He couldn't let Toby get hurt on his account. Getting another running start, he lept upwards, shifting his shoulders as he went. Incredibly, he drifted, his legs kicking out on impulse before he hit the ground. Because of his struggle, his feet slid out from under him, and he landed hard on his ass.

"Your instructors did always praise your grace in combat." Simmons said dryly.

"Fuck off." Leon got up, dusting himself off. He tried once more, fully prepared now, and managed to stick the landing.

"How does it feel?" Simmons asked. "Does it hurt?"

"No." Leon said slowly. "It's… weird. I thought I'd need to learn how to use them, but it's like… like a second nature." He shivered at the thought.

"Good." Simmons came over, gently touching the rear wings. Leon flinched away, apologizing when Simmons gave him a look. The appendages were sensitive, jumping and shuddering when touched. 

"Simmons?" Leon asked.

"Yes?"

"Are you going to… Am I going to look exactly like the novistadors?" His voice was quiet, worry making him feel small.

"No." Simmons shook his head. "The shock from transforming the rest of your body would more than likely kill you. We've decided to limit your mutations to claws and wings, unless you display aptitude for other features."

"Such as?"

"Possibly growing more eyes, or antennae, maybe even the unique set of jaws they possessed. Tell me," He walked around Leon. "Did you get close enough to see how their mouths worked?"

"Only when they were trying to take a chunk out of me." Leon rubbed his arm. "They've got an upper and a lower jaw, but they're shaped weird, almost as if they should be split vertically as well."

"I see." Simmons rubbed his chin. "Get some rest. That field test I told you about is slated for tomorrow evening. Some of my men will come to retrieve you, and you will behave and follow their orders. If you listen and complete the objective, then I'll let Agent Cardoso see you once he's recovered. After all…" He glanced around the warehouse, eyes drifting over the number of rabbits still hiding in the shadows. "We wouldn't want your little friends to take a chunk out of him."

* * *

Leon held out his wrists obediently as the guards cuffed him. They seemed incredibly wary, and he supposed they had every right to be. After he'd torn through two of them like paper, he had gained a little bit of a reputation. He had to play nice if he wanted to see Toby again, that was their deal. He would bust into a BSAA facility, intimidate the employees until they evacuated, then blow the building up. No one got hurt. Sure, it would set the organization back a few months, and it might give one Chris Redfield a massive headache, but he wouldn't be a murderer.

"If you won't do it, I'll give the job to someone else, and they won't give any warning." Simmons said. Leon had agreed- he had to. If nothing else, he could be positive that no one got hurt. 

That was how he found himself in the back of a shipping truck, sneaking into the BSAA's technical office. Fortunately, it was after hours, meaning only the overnight staff were present. It was a smaller crew- 15 or so, he'd been told. All he needed to do was scare them out of the facility while Simmons' men planted explosives. That was easy, with his grotesque claws and protruding wings, he made the perfect monster. The thought made him bitter. After all the years he'd spent fighting BOWs, it would end with him becoming one of them. He'd made a pact with himself that he'd sooner commit suicide than let himself turn into a zombie, but this… this was different. This was worse. Idly, he flexed his hand, watching the claws slide out from behind his knuckles. 

He wondered if anyone was looking for him. Simmons had put him on medical leave, with no estimated return date, but surely someone would notice that he had just vanished. Hunnigan had to be checking up on him, right? He liked to think that they were friends outside of work, that she would be concerned about him, but what if she wasn't? What if _no one_ knew he was missing? Surely, by the time it became an issue- theoretically in weeks, or months- they'd do an investigation, but by then, Simmons would have full control over him, mind and body. He would have to bust himself out, there wasn't another option. Unless he could get the attention of someone here, maybe ask them to contact Redfield. 

Leon snorted.  
Chris was a busy guy, there was no guarantee he'd even come. 

"We're here." One of the men rapped him on the shoulder with his baton. "Go on in and scare 'em out."

He chose not to dignify the order with a response- his snark would only get him in trouble. They shoved him out of the truck, and he fluttered his wings to keep his balance. In front of him, the facility was fairly unassuming. It wasn't grandiose like an Umbrella lab, or clearly an office building like the DSO, it was just a little box warehouse in the middle of the industrial district. Leon headed to the bay door and pried it open with his claws. Immediately, he heard a yelp, and saw a man in a reflective vest book it towards a set of double doors. That was fine. Apparently, the only security was some minimum wage hired patrol, and there was no way they'd try and take him on with their tasers and mace. He stalked towards the doors, glancing around the storage room. There were metal risers filled with plastic-wrapped pallets, a forklift, and stacks of miscellaneous electronics. Nothing of interest.   
He went deeper into the facility, and to his surprise, most of the rooms were empty. Simmons' men could sort out what was and wasn't valuable, nothing here was of consequence to him. It was beginning to worry him that he couldn't find the employees. Where had they gone?

He got his answer when he entered the lobby, and found himself on the business end of a pistol. 

"Leon?" 

"Sherry?" He raised his hands slowly, painfully aware of how his claws stuck out.

"Where have you- Are you working for-" Her hands shook, and she lowered the gun before slapping him across the face.

"Ow! Hey!" Leon stumbled backwards. "Sherry, listen, I know-"

"Who are you working for?" She demanded.

"Simmons." 

"What?" Sherry shook her head. "Leon, you must be mistaken, he's my boss now, we were coordinating with the BSAA to search for you-"

"What?" Leon stared at her. "Sherry, listen to me. Simmons kidnapped me, he's holding me in a facility roughly thirty minutes from here. I- I don't know where exactly. He infected me with a new strain of the plaga."

"Is that what…" Sherry reached out, gently touching the edge of his wings.

"Yeah." Leon sighed. "He's holding me and- and a close friend of mine hostage. He's going to blow up this warehouse, you and everyone else need to run, get away from here."

"But Leon-"

"Sherry, please. I can't let you get hurt." 

"Hey!" Shouting cut them off. Several of Simmons' men burst into the lobby, guns drawn.

"No!" Leon pushed Sherry behind him. "Stay back, they're not all out yet."

"She's not BSAA." One of the mercs said. "Means she's fair game."

Sherry made an offended noise.  
"You're fair game, you son of a-" 

"Sherry!" Leon hissed. He shoved her towards the door, keeping himself in the line of fire. "Get out of here, I'll hold them off." 

"Leon-"

"Go!" He pushed her towards the door before rushing at the mercs. They yelled for him to stop, but their hesitation to open fire was their biggest mistake. By the time they were weapons free, he had already torn through two of them, dropping mutilated corpses in his wake. Leon wouldn't lie, it felt good. His claws sunk through their body armor, ripping into bone and intestine. He could handle the punishment for acting out if it meant that Sherry made it out alive. She would get to safety, and then she'd organize a hunt for him and Toby. He just hoped that it wouldn't take her long. 

"Kalmia!" 

"No-" Leon collapsed, his body betraying him. The plaga writhed and shivered, whipping around inside him. He screamed at the feeling, pain and adrenaline making his wings twitch.

"Fuck." He heard one of the mercs mutter. "It really does work." 

"No shit." Another cussed. He stomped over, kicking Leon in the side. "Let's get this bastard back to base, I think he's done enough damage for one night."

"What about the hostages?" 

_Hostages?_ No wonder he hadn't found any of the employees. 

"Kill them."

"No!" Leon squirmed uselessly.

"Shut up." The merc kicked him again. "Keep your mouth shut, or I'll be tempted to see what else we can make you do." It was more than a threat, he was just waiting for Leon to step out of line. The way his eyes lingered wasn't subtle. 

Their staring contest was broken by screaming and gunfire from deeper in the facility. Leon clenched his jaw. That settled it, he wouldn't do jobs for Simmons, not if they turned out like this. It didn't matter what he did, what new torture he inflicted. Leon refused to help kill innocent people. Not even the plaga could change that. Not while he could still resist it. 

After his mutations retreated back into his body, they were quick to bind him, the restraints painfully tight. Even tied and gagged, they didn't trust him, and he spent the ride back to base with a boot in his back and the muzzle of an AK pressed to his head. He knew Simmons would be furious that he let Sherry escape. Long ago, he'd learned that there were hardly any coincidences in his line of work. The bastard knew she would be there, and had planned to have her killed with the rest.   
He was afraid, of course. If Sherry didn't make it to safety, if they found her before she could get away… then he'd forfeited his only freedom and his chances of seeing Toby again. If that was truly the case, if Simmons was intent on punishing him until he broke down, then he'd find a way to end it. His claws were sharp, and they were strong. No doubt, he could rip through his own chest and kill the plaga. It would be incredibly painful, but it was his best option. Anything less and Simmons would simply reanimate him. 

"I _told_ you not to let him near her!" Simmons' voice was loud, even from outside the truck. Leon bit down on the gag in anger. He was right, it had been a setup. The doors opened, and he went limp as several hands grabbed him and manhandled him out of the vehicle. It continued until he was back in his cell, tossed carelessly to the cement floor.

"I trusted you." Simmons hissed. He paced back and forth. "I let you run amuck in my affairs because I thought you might learn that I have control over you."

"Mmh!" Leon yelled back at him, muffled by the cloth in his mouth.

"I i>own you now, do you understand me?" Simmons knelt down, grabbing a fistful of Leon's hair. He yanked upwards, bringing their faces closer together. "Sooner or later, you will give in to that _thing_ inside you, and you will be little more than a _puppet_!" Enraged, he leveraged both of them to their feet.

"Nuh!" Leon cried out, pulling his arms up to try and relieve the strain on his scalp. Simmons shook him violently. 

"You'll see." He spat. "I'll _show_ you why you need to obey. Do you really think the DSO is going to come for you? Even with Sherry's influence, all they know is that their sick, alcoholic, ptsd-riddled agent has been missing for four days." He touched Leon's stomach, riling up the plaga.

"Nnh!"

"You're probably off on a bender somewhere, drinking until you pass out at the bar." Simmons tossed him back to the floor. "By the time they realize something's wrong, I'll have you so firmly in my grasp that you won't even remember Toby's name." 

"Guh!" Leon writhed in place, desperate to get away from the plaga's grip. Simmons stared down at him.

"I'll leave you to… reflect on what you've done." He straightened his suit before heading for the door. Leon cried out wordlessly, tugging on his bonds. The pain in his torso was overwhelming, causing spasms and sharp bursts of agony. It was getting hard for him to breathe, and he knew he wouldn't last long before going into shock.

"Nuh!" He curled in on himself. It was going to be a long wait.

* * *

"Leon?" Toby ducked under the door. He rushed over, dropping to his knees. "It's okay, sugar. I've got you." He said. His hands moved over the scrubs, finding the hollow between organs where he could reach the plaga. It stilled beneath his touch.

"Mm?" Leon looked pitiful, eyes wide. He groaned when the gag was pulled out of his mouth. "I'm so happy to see you." He whispered. Toby smiled a little.

"He doesn't know I'm here." He said, glancing behind him. "I can't stay long."

"Please." Leon tried to push himself upright.

"Shh, I'm sorry. I'll stay as long as I can." Toby laid down beside him, pulling him close. His voice was quieter when he spoke again. "We need to get you out of here." 

"We _both_ need to get out of here." 

"Right." Toby conceded. He kissed Leon's forehead. "How are your… friends… treating you?" He asked.

"Gross." Leon groaned. He watched one of the rabbits hop over to investigate his bed. "It's so fucked up."

"Yeah. He's a sick bastard."

"He made me go on an op." Leon said.

"What?"

"He said I could give them warning. That I could save them. But… I saw Sherry, a girl I met back in-" Leon shivered. "In Raccoon City. I let her escape and they- they killed all the other employees."

"Shit…" Toby cussed. He shook his head. "I'm sorry-"

"No." Leon stopped him. "No apologies until we get out of here. If Sherry made it, then they know we're missing."

"They know you're missing." Toby said. "I might have been an official DSO employee, but I don't have a record. Simmons took care of my rent, groceries- I don't exist outside of that office."

"But if they find me, then they'll find you. People saw us together, they know we're close."

"I know." Toby sighed. "Just… You know that I-"

"I know you love me." Leon cut him off again. "I know you wouldn't have done this if you'd had the chance-"

"But I-"

"No. Toby. Baby." Leon scooted closer. "If we lived in a perfect world, you would take me to the movies every Friday, we'd have a dog and a cat, a white picket fence… we'd date for a few years, then you'd propose to me on some romantic beach somewhere, I'd say yes, and we'd have a courthouse wedding before-" He smiled despite himself. "Before going on a honeymoon to Italy, where you'd spoil me rotten."

"That…" Toby smiled sadly. "That's a better life than I could have ever hoped for."

"I know the feeling." Leon pushed himself up until he could reach Toby's face, kissing him softly. "But this is what we have. And even if I could take all of this back, I'd still be unhappy. The time we spent together was- was everything I dreamed about having." 

"Someday, it'll be better. Easier." Toby whispered.

"I want you to be there for that someday." Leon whispered back.

"When they find out what happened, I'll go to jail, sugar, I-"

"I won't let that happen." Leon insisted. "I promise you."

"Le." Toby pulled him closer, knocking their foreheads together. He didn't finish whatever thought had been on the tip of his tongue, threading his fingers through Leon's hair. 

"I love you, Toby." 

"I love you too." He buried his face in dirty brown hair. "I have to go, sugar. I can't stay, if he sees-"

"Promise me that I'll see you again." Leon begged him. "Promise me."

"I promise." Toby tilted their heads together, kissing him thoroughly. "I will see you again." 

"And you'll kiss me like that again when you do."

"Absolutely." 

"Good." Leon licked his lips. "Put the gag back in, or he'll know." He opened his mouth so Toby could slip the cloth back between his teeth.

"One way or another, you'll get out of here." Toby promised. He paused for a moment. "We'll… we'll get out of here." 

Leon stared after him, worry building in his chest. They couldn't wait for the DSO to catch up to them. They needed to get out, they needed a plan. A strategy. He laid back against the concrete floor, closing his eyes. If he could just think, if he could focus, he could come up with something. He'd have to be quick, and he'd have to be cunning. 

He'd have to use the plaga. He'd have to learn to mutate on his own. 

_Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster. -Friedrich Nietzsche_


	7. Luftschloss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luftschloss- An unrealistic dream

He didn't know why he expected it to be less painful.

Getting his body to respond to his own commands, to work with him instead of against him, was a chore. The plaga knew its master, and it knew that he was nothing more than a slave. Naturally, it was ornery when he attempted to bring his wings out manually. They got stuck, or tore, and the pain was excruciating. Leon spent hours writhing on the cement floor, surrounded by dead rabbit and bile. It was easier to choke down the raw meat, it no longer left him sick, but the pain in his back was so intense it choked him, and he would end up vomiting anyway. He had to try. If he could learn to control the plaga himself, he stood a much higher chance of being able to escape the facility. He would be able to help Toby, too. If they made it out, he might be able to save both of them. 

As it stood, Toby would be investigated federally, since they were both government employees, then charged with first degree kidnapping, second degree assault, and whatever else the DSO decided to slap him with. Easily ten years in prison. Maybe even twenty, if they pushed. Possible deportation, too. Leon couldn't let that happen. Maybe he was a fool for forgiving so easily, but he couldn't let go of their relationship. The soft parts of him begged for Toby back, pleaded for the closeness he brought. He couldn't let him be locked up or sent away. The only thing to do was to vouch for him, call in some favors, talk to the DSO's legal team.  
Later. After they escaped. 

Leon was getting much better, much faster, at bringing out his wings. It had taken a week or so, but he finally had them under control, and he was doing a lot of practicing. They could be a nuisance in close quarters, and his CQC routine needed adjustment, but overall, they made him a bit quicker on his feet. Perhaps if they weren't made of his own biomass, and hadn't been forcibly mutated from his spine, he could've used them on missions. For now, they were only a means to an end, and he tried not to get too attached. 

He had failed to come up with a plan. Even with Toby's help, he just didn't know enough about the facility. For all he knew, there were guards right outside the door that would cut him down if he made an attempt to force his way out. It was frustrating. He was still being forced to eat raw meat, still kept in isolation in a warehouse that was always cold, and still being deprived of sleep by cramps and pains. The plaga grew the fastest at night, for reasons he couldn't quite understand. He was blessed that it was so much slower than the plaga in Spain. It posed some questions about The Family's process, and how they managed to replicate an extinct species of viral monstrosity, but it also made Leon want to know _why_. Why was Simmons so intent on infecting him, what made him so special? Why was it always him?

Leon curled in on himself, reeling from his train of thought. Why _was_ it always him? He tugged on his hair. He knew he wasn't the only one fighting, the only one getting hurt, but it felt like he always got hit harder than most. He'd watched his friends die in front of him, had to put some of them down himself, he was _tired_. It was a real dick move to use him as a guinea pig after watching him come so close to death in Spain. Only someone like Simmons could do it without hesitation. Bastard. 

Leon got up, pacing back and forth. The plaga controlled his emotions, made bad feelings stronger, and good feelings weaker. Anger was a whole other story. When he was angry, it spiraled downwards until he was fidgeting and anxious, frustration pent up inside him. The plaga forbid him from acting out. There was a silent threat inside of him, a promise that he'd regret being disobedient, but Leon had never been one to listen. 

He screamed, desperate to release his frustration. The rabbits scattered from where they were hiding in the shadows, startled by the noise. Leon went over to his bed, his claws flexing eagerly, and tore the sheets apart, ripping and shredding through the cheap cloth. He tossed them away, moving on to anything in the warehouse that wasn't bolted down. There were some crates stacked in one corner, and they shattered when he chucked them against the wall. 

"What-" Leon looked down at his hands. He'd never been that strong before. He clenched his fists, his jaw tensing along with his arms. Maybe the hours of training with the plaga had been worth it after all. Glancing around, he could see the rabbits scattering, terrified by the noise and the destruction. He couldn't blame them. Anger was still running hot in his veins, and he felt even more restless after lashing out. His eyes darted around the warehouse. The rabbits had bitten through a chunk of the drywall, exposing insulation and what looked like steel reinforcement. Leon hurried over, hooking his claws in and tugging. The rubble came loose, crashing to the floor. He chuckled to himself. More and more of the wall came free as he scratched and pulled at it. 

"Hey!" One of the guards came on the intercom. "Stand down, or we'll be forced to subdue you." 

"Go fuck yourself." Leon muttered. He reached down, picking up a piece of the wall. It felt good, being able to pick up huge chunks of rock and toss them across the warehouse. Idly, he wondered if Chris Redfield felt this way all the time.

"Down on the ground!" Several of the mercs burst into the room, rifles trained on Leon's form. He rolled his shoulders, sizing them up.

"Or what?" He said. Rushing at them, he dove out of the way of their bullets. His wings sprouted, and he lept into the air, coming down claws first. He ripped through the first two mercs before rounding on the other three. They were too stunned to react, too green to realize that gear didn't mean shit if you didn't know when to use it.

Leon took a moment to breathe, stepping backwards and looking at what he'd done. All five men laid on the ground, their eyes wide and still with terror. He'd torn them to shreds without hesitation. 

"Uh- damn." He shook his head. It was getting harder to control himself. Blood soaked the ground, and he left red footprints as he approached them. He hadn't meant to do this much damage. Leon shook his head again, tugging on his hair. He knelt down, searching through their gear until he put together some supplies for himself. A vest, gun, flashlight, radio, ammo, and lastly, a pair of their shoes. They were a little too big, but most of the others were even larger. Leon tied them tight, tucking a knife he'd found into his stolen socks. Now armed, he dared to sneak towards the door. To his surprise, it wasn't locked, and he pushed it up and out of the way. He hadn't seen Simmons today, it was possible that he wasn't even here. Leon hoped that was true, he stood a much better chance of escaping if the big boss wasn't home.

"The big cheese." He whispered to himself.  
The main corridor was just as Toby had described. Leon headed to the other holding cell, peering in through the small window in the door. As far as he could tell, it was empty. Where was Toby? Frustrated, he continued on, peeking in doors and looking through windows. Every room was empty. There were a few scientists, but his approximation of the guards' dress let him slip by unnoticed. As long as he kept his cool, he should be able to walk right out once he found Toby. They should be nearly home free. His enthusiasm for that plan dwindled as he continued to come up empty.

"Damn!" He cussed, glancing back down the hallway. Where would Simmons keep him? Leon rubbed his forehead for a minute before growling in frustration. He had to go, it wouldn't be long before someone discovered the mess he'd left. Heading out of the building, he quickly glanced around. The whole base was built inside a ten foot chain link fence. Too easy. Leon followed it until he came to a wooded area, where he scaled the metal and jumped down to the other side. Just as he hit the ground, a klaxon sounded from inside the compound. They'd noticed his escape.

"I'll come back for you." He whispered. "Promise." Hastily, he retreated into the woods. He ran for at least a half mile before he dared to stop. The fight had taken a lot of energy, and his diet of rabbit meat was doing him no favors. It didn't have the same nutritional value as other meats, Simmons had explained, he needed to graduate to other, more sustainable prey. Leon had sworn not to give in to that need, and now it was costing him. He sat down, catching his breath. He had no idea which way he was going, and no clue where he was. Additionally, he was lost, hungry, and fighting off a vengeful parasite. The radio crackled dully as the guards talked, giving orders and forming search parties. They were going to set out in all directions, and they'd catch him quickly if he didn't figure something out. 

_Crack!_

Leon spun, aiming his gun. Something was in the brush. He crouched down, making himself small. Whatever it was kept coming closer, slowly. They emerged from the bush, their hands empty and held up. Leon's eyes darted from the mask covering the mercenary's face to the bulging mass of flesh that seemed to be consuming one of their legs. At the same time, pain ripped through him. He cried out softly, falling down against the forest floor. Simmons knew, and he was angry.

"Oh, _fuck!_ " He whimpered. 

"Any eyes on target?" The radio fizzed. The merc reached for his headset.

"Please don't." Leon begged. "Please."

"Target spotted heading east."

"Toby?" 

"It's okay." Toby pulled the helmet off, tossing it aside. "I'm sorry, I had to make them think I was still working with them."

"What- but your-" Leon glanced down.

"He's trying to make my mutations permanent." Toby said. He limped slightly as he walked, coming closer. His hands unbuckled the vest Leon was wearing, finding their way over his bare skin. The plaga settled down a little as he soothed it, but it was clearly still agitated, twitching inside of Leon. 

"Thank you." He kissed Toby's cheek, leaning in to hug him. "Come with me, we can go to the DSO, and they'll help us."

"You have to keep going, sugar. There's a safe house to the west, about five miles from here. It has food, vehicles, weapons, everything you need to get away." Toby smoothed down Leon's hair. 

"You're coming with me."

"Not this time." He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"What?" Leon shook his head. "No, Toby, you're coming with me, we're going to get out of this together." 

Toby took Leon's hands, squeezing gently before pressing kisses to his knuckles, each finger brushing his lips.  
"I wish I could, Le. I wish a lot of things were different."

"What are you talking about? Just come with me." Leon said. He was desperate to understand.

"He's already made it permanent." Toby said. "The plaga. It's fused to my spine. It can't come out. You have to go without me."

"No!" Leon pressed himself closer, knocking their foreheads together. "I won't leave you. You're all I have." He cried out when the pain returned, sharp and targeted on his stomach. Toby shushed him, his fingers trailing gently over Leon's skin.

"I would give anything to go with you." He said. "But I can't." As he spoke, the mass on his leg rippled and moved of its own accord. Toby grunted in pain, swearing under his breath when one of his hands started to mutate. Leon grabbed onto him, acting as an anchor while he watched flesh crack and expand. Toby cursed again as his fingers fused and morphed. 

"What…" Leon touched gently, feeling hard chitin just underneath skin. "What is he trying to do to you?" 

"I- I don't know which creature the strains are based off of." Toby admitted. "He called this one the V-strain. Yours is the N-strain." 

"V-strain." Leon repeated slowly. He reached down, pulling Toby's pant leg up. Beneath it, his leg had twisted and narrowed, coated in the same hard, black armor that was beginning to form on his arms. Leon's blood ran a little colder as the pieces began to fit. "He's turning you into a verdugo." 

"An executioner?" Toby asked. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"They're these big- like," Leon flailed his arms for a moment. "Big bugs. Eight feet tall, long tail, claws. The worst part is the eyes." He shuddered. "They glow this awful reddish-orange color. That's the part I remember most vividly. The eyes."

"Wonderful." Toby grunted. He reached behind himself, pulling out a wicked-looking syringe. "I stole this from his lab. One of the eggheads in there said that it'll stave off Simmons' control of the plaga."

"Perfect." Leon grabbed it, using his other hand to push Toby's sleeve up. 

"No. It's for you."

"For me? But-"

"Nuh uh." Toby pulled him close, using his human hand to touch Leon's cheek. "This-" he gestured to himself. "This can't be fixed, sugar. You know that." 

"We can try." Leon insisted. He reached out, touching the swell of black claws beneath skin. 

"Did he tell you why he infected both of us?" Toby asked.

"No."

"Because I'm his back up. If you were to die or escape, Simmons would take away the pills that kept the plaga from killing me and he would make me his secret weapon instead." Toby shook his head. "I can't let him have that. You- you have to kill me, Leon, you have to kill the plaga."

"No!" Leon leaned in, hugging Toby as tight as he could. "I won't, I can't. Please, there has to be another way." 

"I wish there was. These mutations, the ones I can't control, they're only possible if Simmons hasn't been giving me the right medication. Even if I go with you, he'll still have control over me. We _cannot_ let that happen."

"Toby." Leon whispered. "Please."

"I'm sorry." 

"Please don't do this. I've spent my whole life alone, and- and I can't-"

"Shh, it's alright." Toby rocked him back and forth. "I know. More than anything, I wish we could've had a long, happy life together."

"You made me feel so normal, so- so _wanted_ , Toby, I can't-" Leon's voice cracked. "I don't want to go back to living in that shitty apartment and drinking myself to sleep. I was a mess before I met you." 

"I'm sorry." Toby whispered. He let out a shaky breath, tears sliding down his cheeks. Leon met his gaze, feeling himself tear up as well.

"No, don't-" He wiped his face. "Now I'm gonna start crying." 

"There isn't much time." Toby touched Leon's hair before moving on to caress his cheek. Stubble scraped his thumb.

"No-" Leon begged. He kissed Toby, mustering as much passion as he could in a last-ditch effort to convince him. His tongue slid over soft lips, and was welcomed inside with a sigh. When they broke apart for air, they were breathless for a long moment. Toby licked his lips before speaking.

"Keep heading west. They'll be looking eastward for a while, but they'll eventually circle around-"

"No-"

"Leon." Toby stopped him. "You have to go." He unbuckled a compass from his vest. "Here. There's maps and burner phones inside the safehouse. Get there and contact the DSO. You'll be alright."

"I can't kill you, I can't-" 

"You _have_ to." 

"I know." Leon looked away when his voice became unsteady. "I love you." He whispered, raising trembling hands. "I don't think I can. There has to be another way, I-"

"Kalmia!" Toby said suddenly.

" _No!_ " Leon tried to strangle his scream, but the feeling of his claws embedding themselves inside of his lover was too much. He cried out in anguish, pulling them back as quickly as he could. Toby gave a wet gurgle, falling onto his back. He choked up a wad of blood, and it dribbled down his cheek as if it had a mind of its own.

"Hngh-" He was struggling to talk, to move, to breathe.

"Toby! Toby, stay with me." Leon knelt over him, cradling his head. He pressed their foreheads together, running his fingers over whatever skin he could reach. "Shh, it's okay, it's okay." He said, choking on his tears. "I've got you." 

"Le?" Toby whispered. His eyes were wide and dull, as if he couldn't focus on anything.

"I'm right here, baby." Leon kissed him, gentle and slow. "I'm right here, I've got you." 

"I love you-" Toby's voice cut out, and he seized up, more blood working its way up his esophagus. The holes in his chest made gross sucking noises as his lungs struggled to maintain their internal pressure. 

"I know you do." Leon soothed, doing his best to hold back his grief. "I love you too." He cried quietly, listening to Toby's breathing slow. For him, the worst part of anyone's death was their final breath, the sound of air leaving their lungs for the last time. The death rattle. Ever so grim, ever so final. It heralded the end with more finality than anything else he'd experienced in life. Some people said it was the spirit leaving the body, others chalking it up to plain, old science. No matter what it was, it was a sound that stayed with you. Toby's last breath was quiet, peaceful. There was no rattle, no raspy wheeze, nothing. He simply went still in Leon's arms. The whole area was quiet, as if the trees were holding their collective breath. After a few moments, it was too much to bear. Leon set Toby down, reluctant to let go of him. He lingered for as long as he dared, crossing limp arms over the stab wounds. As an afterthought, he took Toby's earrings, tucking them into a pocket of his vest. He also checked for the DSO chip implanted behind the left ear. The chip fed bio-data to the DSO, telling them which of their agents were alive or dead. If Toby's was connected, then several people in the agency would be getting alerts about his death. The chip could also be used as a short-distance locator, and would be helpful when they retrieved his body.

"I'll make sure you're not left out here." Leon said. He'd drowned out the chatter from the radio, but as he tuned back in, he heard them say something about circling around, and knew he had to leave. The kiss he pressed to Toby's forehead felt cold and shallow, almost unreal. It hurt to turn away from him, hurt even more to keep walking. After a few steps, he felt the plaga stir, roused from whatever sleep it had been in. It attacked his stomach again, and Leon stumbled. 

"Not now." He hissed. He grabbed the vaccine Toby had given him, popped the cap, and pushed it into his arm. While it worked, he dropped the syringe and pressed on, fighting through the burn in his body. While the medicine was quick to stop the plaga, it was slow to overtake the rest of the infection, as evident by how he could feel it working its way through his bloodstream. 

His thoughts were stagnant as he walked, stuck on the emptiness he felt deep in his chest. Toby was gone, he wouldn't be coming back. Leon would find his way home, go back to work, and end up in his office all over again, but he wouldn't have Toby. No coffee and donut on his desk, no lunch dates, no sneaking away to chat on their breaks, nothing. No more late night take-out dinners before they fell into bed, no morning kisses, no flirty text messages while he was trying to work. He would be alone. He'd go home to an empty apartment. 

He could already taste the alcohol on his tongue.


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)

Months go by.

Flurries of tests and surgeries, injections and pills, doctors that poked and prodded, and the whir of machines taking samples and checking vitals. Psychologists, asking him about his sickness, about Toby, about how he was feeling, was he doing okay?  
_No!_ Leon wanted to scream. _No, I'm not fucking okay!_

He hid from them as best he could, locked up in his apartment. He'd told them all that he just needed time. Time and space to sort his thoughts. It was hard to think when he kept seeing, kept _feeling_ his hands sink into Toby's chest cavity. Most nights, he didn't sleep. The dreams were too real, too harsh. He couldn't stand the pale, dead look of Toby's eyes staring up at him. It was too much. 

On top of his new trauma, Simmons had gotten away with it. No one suspected him, and they definitely wouldn't listen to Leon. The Family had the DSO wrapped around their finger, and the government was only concerned about getting the virus out of Leon, not whether or not he'd truly gotten it in the Eastern Slav Republic. He was thankful that it was gone, that he no longer had wings and claws, but he was also infuriated that Simmons was getting off scot-free. Because there was no formal investigation, he hadn't been able to go back and find Toby's body. It was probably still out there somewhere. 

Leon walked slowly to his bedroom, cradling his bottle of rum in one arm. For the first time since he'd been kidnapped, he was sleeping in his own bed. He'd been on the couch for a week or two now, but it was beginning to hurt his back. The bed seemed like a trap. The last time he'd used it, he'd been with Toby. It felt strange to be climbing between the sheets without him. Leon curled up in the middle, bringing the bottle with him. It was already half empty, resting comfortably in his stomach. Rum always made him feel so warm. 

"Mm." He nestled his face into the pillows, smelling Toby's shampoo. Pressing closer, he breathed it in as much as he could before pulling the pillow close against his chest. As he moved it, something crinkled, and in his drunken stupor, it took him a moment to figure out the source of the noise. A letter, tucked beneath the pillow. Leon opened it, eyebrows raising when he saw that it was from Toby. To steel himself, he took a long swig of rum before reading it.

_Leon,_

_I'm so sorry. I had so many opportunities to turn back, to turn away, to do anything to protect you, but I didn't. I should have. I should never have gotten close, or let Simmons get anywhere near you. I should have stepped up and been the guinea pig instead. If I hadn't been so selfish, so cowardly, none of this would have happened. You've already been through so much, it was wrong of me to put more weight on your shoulders.  
When you sought me out, demanded I take you out on a date, I turned down a path I shouldn't have. Simmons provided me with micro doses of plaga, and I mixed them into the coffee and donuts I brought you. I poisoned you, turned you into a viral breeding ground. If you're reading this, then hopefully I've found a way to make it right. I hope to whatever god is out there that you escaped, and that they got the plaga out of you._

_You opened your heart to me, you put your trust in me, and I know that's not something you take lightly. You loved me unconditionally, and I took that for granted. You deserve the world, you deserve better. I want you to be happy, you deserve that above all else. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you needed. I'm sorry for everything. I don't deserve your forgiveness, nor do I expect it.  
If I may be selfish one more time, I want you to remember one thing. I loved you. Wherever I am now, I still love you, and I always will. You are a very special kind of person, and I hope you find someone who appreciates that the way that I do. I hope you find someone who spoils you, who knows how to take care of you when you need it. You deserve that, Leon, you have always deserved that. _

_I have no right to ask this of you, but please, find it in yourself to heal from the pain I've caused you and live a happier life. My heart belongs to you, and if you choose to leave it behind, then the punishment will fit the crime._

_Please be kind to yourself._

_-Toby_

Leon's hands shook. He set down the paper, hiding his face in the blankets as he sobbed. The cries wracked his whole body, exacerbated by the alcohol. Between the escape and his medical examinations, he hadn't found time to grieve, and it was all forcing its way out of him now. He pulled the pillow tight against his chest to try and calm his breathing, which was coming in short gasps.

"No…" He whimpered. Inside his head, he was trying desperately to think of good times, of how it felt to be held, of Toby's stubble tickling his neck. Instead, his brain was stuck on the feeling of deadweight in his arms, of Toby's limp body slumped against the ground. Leon stifled another sob, wiping his eyes. He would be okay if he could just think about something else.

His hand drifted over his stomach, pushing his shirt up. Unconsciously, he traced the new scar that stretched out below his ribs. The scientists at the BSAA had cut the plaga out of him, but the process had been intensive. The new incision marks completely covered the scar from Luis' machine. By themselves, they were impressive, and they certainly made him look tougher, but they were a constant reminder. He was lucky that Toby had found him the vaccine, that he'd been slowing the plaga's growth. Without his interference, there was no way that Leon would've lived to see his own bed again.

He took another swig. The time he'd spent with Toby had been incredible. Most of it, he could barely remember, but the days he could, he treasured. He'd never been taken care of like that, never had someone insist on looking after him. Being _wanted_ , being _loved_ wasn't something he was used to. He chalked most kind gestures up to pity or obligation, but Toby had been so thorough, so stubborn about loving him… He would've been a fool to say no. 

In a perfect world, where people like Simmons didn't exist, and there were no viruses to raise the dead, Leon would have married Toby. He would have married him and bought a house with him, and they would live together for years with a big rescue dog and maybe a cat. They'd plant vegetables in their garden and go to a movie every Saturday night. 

Leon set the bottle down on his nightstand, running his thumb over the edge of the letter. Toby had been in and out of his life so quickly. He hardly knew anything about the other man, not his favorite color, or if he sang in the shower. He didn't know Toby's favorite junk food, or what his first car was. There had been a whole person- a whole life full of hurt, anger, love, and joy- in his hands, and he had let it slip away. He'd let Toby slip away. 

Tears leaked down his cheeks, staining the pillowcase. He had been so close to proving himself wrong, to showing his cynical side that he could do both- that he could work a soulless job at the DSO _and_ have someone to go home to. Leon's eyes skimmed over the letter again, trying to read it in Toby's voice. The words sunk in a little deeper the second time around. He didn't know when it had been written, but it was pretty clear that Toby hadn't known what was going to happen to them. Leon went quiet for a moment, his tears drying up, as he realized that Toby's letter was a signed confession that implicated Simmons. It was the proof he needed.

"Thank you." He whispered. "Fuck-" He choked on another sob. Even in death, Toby was taking care of him. Leon set the letter aside, gently, and nestled into the blankets. The smell was so comforting. He didn't know what he'd do when it faded. That was a problem for another day, a more sober day. Holding on tightly to Toby's pillow, he closed his eyes and fought off dark thoughts until his body forced him to sleep.

* * *

The funeral was short. There weren't many people present, and no one stood up to give a eulogy. Leon couldn't find it in himself. It took everything in him just to keep his knees from shaking while President Benford handed him an impeccably folded flag. Toby had no family, no blood relatives, no one to notify. While setting up the funeral, Leon had found files upon files about how the CIA had recruited a number of cartel lieutenants after a large drug bust in Mazatlán. Toby's name had been on that list. 

He'd been angry at first, upset that no one had told him. The more he'd dug, the more information he'd found, about Toby's childhood, about the cartel he'd been in, about his recruitment and immigration to the United States. It was all one huge clusterfuck. Toby had started a new life with the CIA, working undercover in the Navy for several years as a medical officer. After gathering the intelligence needed, he'd been transferred to the DSO, where he was supposed to stay. He was assigned an easy job supervising the construction of aid stations in infected cities. He was supposed to be free to do as he pleased. 

Of course, no amount of planning could have prepared Toby for Simmons. Leon couldn't prove it, but he was almost certain that Simmons had infected Toby without his knowledge and held the medication he needed hostage until he agreed to the coffee and donuts plan. It made him hopelessly angry and frustrated. From the beginning, their relationship had been doomed, but knowing that didn't make it hurt any less. Leon had tried to be angry, he tried to hate Toby for what he'd done, but he couldn't. He still loved him. 

He accepted the keys to Toby's apartment with an awful mix of fear, anxiety, and curiosity. Unsure of what to expect, he squared his shoulders and unlocked the deadbolt. The door pushed open beneath his fingertips, and Leon felt another rush of emotion take over him. He flipped on some lights, and took careful steps through the foyer and into the living room. There wasn't a lot of decoration, and the furniture was cheap and easily replaceable. Nothing seemed permanent, nothing felt lived in. The kitchen was almost clinical, save for a box of hot chocolate mix and a mug with the DSO's logo on it. Leon couldn't stop himself from rifling through the cupboards. It was all standard pantry food, and he was disappointed. He wanted to learn more about Toby, to feel closer to him, and so far, he was coming up empty. He flipped through a magazine on the table. To his delight, he found a few pages that were dog-eared. On them, he saw camping gear, a nice tent and sleeping bags, an air mattress, all with their item numbers circled.

"Camping." He whispered to himself. "He liked camping." Leon set the booklet aside, moving to the bathroom. He opened the drawers beneath the sink, finding only a toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, and a comb. Inside the medicine cabinet, he found migraine medication, a bottle of antidepressants, shaving cream, and a razor. 

"You weren't taking your medication." He said out loud. "You wanted to make sure you could kill yourself if-" Leon covered his mouth with his palm, eyes going wide. He remembered the feeling, remembered fantasizing about pulling the trigger. Without dwelling on it, he left the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Toby's bedroom was the only space left, the only place he hasn't set foot in. With no small amount of trepidation, Leon slipped inside. He had expected the plain bed and immaculate sheets. A neat closet and dresser also didn't surprise him. What got to him was the pile of photos on the nightstand. Snapshots of him, of Toby. Pictures of them talking and laughing at a joke. At the bottom of the pile, there was a piece of letter size paper. On it, in Times New Roman, someone had typed "if he finds out, he dies".

"What kind of…" Leon shook his head. It was so cliché, so _like_ Simmons. No wonder Toby hadn't said anything. Another spark of anger flared up inside him. If he guessed the date of the photos correctly, they hadn't even been dating yet. Toby was still just his secret crush. The closer he looked at the photos- at the way they leaned together to gossip, at Toby's smile- the more he understood. If their positions had been reversed, he would have done the same thing. 

Leon wasn't sure if that was the closure he was looking for or not, but it helped. Perhaps he'd found a way to justify how much he missed Toby. Regardless, it hurt to pack up the belongings that he'd decided to keep. He couldn't let go, not just yet. He wanted to know more, as much as he could. If he had a say in it, Toby's identity would be more than just being a KIA government agent. He deserved to be remembered by someone.

That was why Leon took responsibility for the cremains. There wasn't actually anything in the urn- Toby's body had never been recovered- but he could pretend. It went in the ground all the same, got covered by dirt all the same.  
The headstone wasn't anything fancy. It had Toby's name, birth and death dates, and a little etching of a sparrow on it. It was final, and cold, and at first, Leon spent a lot of time sitting in front of it. He didn't speak to it, or bring flowers, he just sat. Sometimes, he'd lean against it and read. He doubted that Toby would mind. 

The cemetery became a place for him to go and clear his head, a place where no one would bother him. It hurt less as time went on, but it never really went away. When he lost friends, teammates, allies, he would come and sit with Toby. His fingers knew the lines of the headstone by heart, and he would trace them over and over while he let his thoughts run. 

That was where Chris Redfield found him, seven years after Toby died. They had both been put on leave after their fight with Glenn Arias, and the ashes in New York had barely settled. Sure enough, Leon was in the cemetery, sitting with his arms propped on his knees and his head down.

"Leon?" Chris took a step closer. "I… think you're going to want to see this."

"Not now, Chris." Leon mumbled.

"No, Leon. You want to see this." Chris took another step, holding out a tablet. On it was a forwarded email, automated from the DSO's microchip system.

>   
>  Unit: #CARDOTA087MP
> 
> Patient Status: UNKNOWN
> 
> Name: CARDOSO, TOBIAS ANGELO
> 
> **IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED**  
> 

  
"Is this a joke?" Leon asked. He stood up, dusting himself off. "Because it's not-"

"It's not a joke." Chris cut him off. "They found it in Arias' lab. They think maybe…" He glanced down at the tombstone. "Maybe Arias had Toby's body, or he knew where to find it." 

Leon stared for a few seconds before his gaze moved back to the tablet.  
"Show me." He said. "Now."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for giving this story a chance!  
> Twitter: @pointofdespair


End file.
